


North

by Castastrophe



Series: The Compass Series [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bisexuality, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, He's a bit of a floozy, M/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Build, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Unresolved Sexual Tension, in progress, long chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 10:09:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3646323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castastrophe/pseuds/Castastrophe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was nothing harder to forget than his mistakes, nothing harder to relate to than the present, and nothing harder to accept than his feelings. But Steve was never a quitter, and he wasn't going to start being one now. He just needed a little time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally started posting this on fanfiction.net, but have since realised that it is tragically dying. My poor heart. 
> 
> This will be slow posting, fair warning. However, the chaps are about 10k each, so I'm sure you'll live. 
> 
> Massive thanks to my beta reader (WHOSE AO3 ACCOUNT I DUNNO YET) for her continued support and harassment to work on this.

Nightfall was meant to have been a time of peace, of rest, of rejuvenation and recovery. The blanket of darkness that enveloped the city and surrounded its citizens was a sign that the day's struggles had finally passed, and that it was time to prepare for the next. Instead, blue eyes had snapped open, focused intently on the stretch of darkness that the ceiling above them held. A well defined chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat sliding down smooth skin and causing stray blonde locks to plaster to a pale forehead. It takes several moments before the realization sets in that the war is over. There was no carnage surrounding him, no immediate threat to his life, no bodies falling, no screams, no pain.

Steve Rogers swung his legs out of bed and rested his head in his hands for a few moments, letting a long breath escape from his lips. He hadn't realised he'd been holding it in.

 

* * *

 

The mug warmed his fingers, as he stared into the dark liquid placed before him and allowed himself to absorb the scent through every pore. He was yet to take a sip.

"Something on your mind?" a voice rouses him from his musings. Steve looks up from the mug held in his fingertips to meet those of his housemate. Bruce had that usual calm air around him, a smile upon his lips, but concern creased his brows. Steve forced a smile in return and nodded, stretching so that his back gave a small pop. Some things still felt so mundanely _normal_ , and cracking his back was one of those tiny reminders that he was still a human being.

"It's always been a little hard adjusting to a new bed, I guess," Steve lied, running a hand through his hair. He'd never had a problem sleeping on a bed in his life. He'd slept on a lumpy mattress as a child, an even lumpier one as a teen, and spent most of his time sleeping on the floor or a crude bunk during-

He swallowed thickly, and forced the thought away.

Regardless of where he had slept, where he was sleeping now had never been hard on him in the slightest. In fact, he couldn't recall falling asleep quicker and more comfortably anywhere before in his entire life. But it wasn't the falling asleep that was the problem. It was staying that way.

"I know the feeling," Bruce murmured, raising his own mug to his lips and returning his attention to the newspaper before him, "This is a little more luxurious than what I'm used to."

Steve realised there was probably more behind that than Bruce was letting on, but he didn't press it. He was far from a nosey individual, and whilst his camaraderie with Bruce as a fellow Avenger was only one part of it all, everybody had their secrets, and Steve would rather quash his curiosity than risk the dynamic of the team by wanting to know more.

It had been three months since the battle that had brought them all together, and ultimately pushed them all apart. There was an unspoken agreement between the entire team once it was over; each team member was almost painfully private, and each had their own inner peace that they sought. The battle against Loki had brought out both the best and the worst in each of the Avengers, and there was going to be no turning back from that. So, they all pushed forward as best as they could, lone souls seeking their own paths. Natasha and Clint had returned to SHIELD, commencing their daily lives the only way they knew how. The last anyone had seen of Thor was when he had taken Loki back to Asgard with him, but Steve often gave a small smile each time a storm rolled in. Thor was never all that far away. Bruce had disappeared to an unknown location in South Africa, but Steve had known he would be back. As much of a solitary figure the scientist made himself out to be, a part of Bruce had come to life when in the company of others, and Steve had wondered if it were for the same reason he enjoyed popping his back.

As for Steve himself, he had travelled, for as far and as long as he could.

The months had stretched by, as he'd endeavoured to visit the graves of those he had lost along the way and explore the country he'd always wanted to experience when _not_ in the clutches of war. Some days he found it hard to breathe, the differences between now and then were so overwhelming. As privately agreed to by each member of the team, Steve had accepted a telecommunications device, for use when the Avengers would be needed once again. When they were, which they all somehow knew would be a 'when' as opposed to an 'if', Steve would be ready. Nick Fury had been more than firm when insisting that team members keep the devices on them at all times. Steve did so with no hesitation, not expecting the call to come any time soon. So, when his phone had rung two weeks prior, he feared the worst. What he got, however, was Tony Stark.

Steve wouldn't have been able to avoid Stark, no matter how hard he tried. Unlike the rest of the team, Tony had stayed exactly where and how he was, calmly taking the flak for the aftermath that followed the Loki incident. He'd continued to excel in his field, and his image was plastered across most of the magazine stands that Steve had come across. He'd shaken his head as he'd sat at a diner for breakfast in Wisconsin, reading over an article in the Times about the Avengers, complete with a brief interview with Iron Man himself.

_"When asked about the Avengers and if he were aware of his teammate's whereabouts, Mister Stark remained uncharacteristically silent, before assuring that if the need ever arose, he 'wouldn't need to know', as he had 'every confidence that the guys would do their civil duty'. At this, Mister Stark reclined even further, 'And as we all know, at least one of the team can't get enough of that particular vitamin'."_

Steve had known that it was himself that Tony had blatantly taken a stab at, but he brushed it off as quickly as he had learned to with every other insult or tease that Tony had thrown his way. The man wasn't happy unless he was making someone bristle, and Steve took both pride and pleasure in denying him that satisfaction.

It was two days after the publication that the call had come, with Tony chattering down the line about Stark Tower now being "Avenger capable", whatever that meant, and hey, Steve should head on back and hang with everyone for a while.

"Everyone?" Steve had asked, and he could almost hear Tony shrug down the line.

"Me, Bruce, and Birdboy occasionally lifts his head out from under his wing, so to speak. Wouldn't think you would need much more encouragement after the mention of 'me' though."

"Natasha?" Steve prompted, ignoring yet another egotistical remark from the billionaire.

"At SHIELD more often than not, but that shouldn't deter you too much. There are some _fantastic_ things photoshop lovers have done on the internet, so even if it isn't the real deal, you can still entertain the thought of our beloved in frilly little-"

Steve cleared his throat abruptly, "Is there a point to this phone call?"

"There's a room all set up and ready to go, Cap."

"How much of this was Fury's idea?"

"I'm outright insulted. You make it sound like Fury is somehow pushing me into this. I want nothing more than to sacrifice my personal space for the good of the team."

Steve said nothing, holding the phone to his ear and merely waiting. He didn't need to wait long.

"He _might_ have suggested it. Most of it."

There was another pause.

"There may have been a little arm twisting."

Steve shook his head, running a hand through his hair and resisting the urge to sigh.

"I'm not saying he's an intimidating man, but yeez..."

Steve felt a small smirk lick at his lips, and the very next day, he was a resident of Stark Tower.

"That's one thing I'll never understand," An all too familiar voice pulled Steve from his early morning musings, "People leaving something as precious as a cup of Joe to go cold."

Steve looked up from his coffee once more as Tony sat down across from him at the dining table and shook his head, clicking his tongue disapprovingly as he filled his own mug. He looked almost tragic; hair sticking out at all sorts of odd angles and despite the sun barely peeking through the heavily tinted windows, a designer pair of shades was perched on his nose. Steve swilled down a mouthful of his coffee and forced back a grimace as he realised Tony was right about the temperature. Steve pushed it towards the billionaire absent-mindedly, as Tony allowed his mouth to drop open dramatically. Steve should have been used to the theatrics by now, but it still grinds on his nerves a little. Most things about Tony do.

"A simple 'no' would suffice, Tony."

"I don't do simple, Cap," Tony shrugs, downing the last dregs of his coffee that he'd been gulping under Steve's glare. Tony stood then, clapping Bruce on the shoulder affectionately, before heading back to his lab. Once Tony had left, Steve allowed himself a brief moment to bristle, his fists clenching and unclenching of their own accord. Bruce never looks up from his paper, but a small smile lifts at the corner of his lips.

For the majority of the time, the team keeps to themselves. Tony hadn't been exaggerating when he had stated that Natasha was at SHIELD more often than not. Steve had yet to see her since he'd moved in, although Bruce had reassured him that she'd been in on several occasions, albeit very briefly, and usually in the very late evening or early morning. It led Steve to wonder if Bruce slept at all. Clint spent a majority of his time out at the target ranges, working on moves that he'd already perfected. Steve could understand that kind of dedication. He had been much the same back when he was in the army. Even after everything that had transpired, he'd found his guilt and his near crippling emotional aches were nullified somewhat by spending time in the gym. _This_ led Steve to wonder if Hawkeye was in fact suffering a little more from his encounter with Loki than his stoic demeanour let on. As the archer spent more and more time at the Stark residence, Steve grew concerned. He asked Bruce (who was fast becoming the tower's gossip hound) what the deal was, but although the scientist never missed a detail, he merely shrugged over his notepad, and refused to meet Steve's gaze. Steve supposed it served him right for prying.

As for Tony, he was still the Avenger's playboy figure, the same as he always had been. If he wasn't in his lab, he was at a function, mingling with the beautiful people of the world, or in his bedroom, doing much the same. It unsettled Steve, for the sake of security, if nothing else. He'd confronted Tony about it, feeling it was somewhat his responsibility, and the billionaire had lowered his shades just enough to make direct eye contact. Steve hated when he did that.

"A matter of security? You probably owe Jarvis an apology for worrying about that, or you'll hurt his feelings," Tony faked a concerned frown and raised his shades once more, as Steve took a deep breath in to calm himself. It was near impossible, however, when that breath sucked in the almost overwhelming smell of perfume that coated Stark's skin and clothes. Tony must have seen Steve's nose wrinkle, as he wafted the air around him and breathed in deeply as well. Even Tony wrinkled his nose slightly, before letting out a sneeze.

"Phew! Do you know what that smell is, Cap?" Tony asked, but before Steve could answer, Tony was doing so already. "Angel. Got a mild allergy to it, but God it's a treat."

With that, Tony had given a polite wave and ducked back into his lab before Steve could say any more on the matter, his head still dizzy with the lingering perfume of Tony's latest conquest. He was loathe to admit it, but Tony was right. In a lighter air, it was a treat.

 

* * *

 

He hadn't meant to fall asleep on the couch. He hadn't even felt himself dozing off. But the History Channel had a special on seventies culture, a decade that Steve hadn't been able to say no to when it came to learning all he had missed. One moment he'd been absorbed by disco and horrible fashion sense, and the next, he'd woken up with a scream trapped in his throat, memories tarnishing whatever sleep his body had planned. He sat bolt upright, his chest heaving, as he swung his legs over the side of the couch and rubbed at his temples, his breath coming out shakily. It took several moments before he saw him. Or more accurately, sensed his presence. Tony Stark placed a hand on the Captain's shoulder and waited for the blonde to meet the billionaire's gaze. Steve felt humiliated, but Tony didn't say a word. He merely handed the Captain a glass of water, squeezed Steve's shoulder as he usually did with Bruce, and took his leave.

Steve shifted uncomfortably, his eyes staring into the darkness that Tony had just disappeared into. How long had Tony been there? Steve's chest constricted as he remembered being told he spoke in his sleep as well. How much, if anything, had Tony heard?

Perhaps the most unsettling thing, Steve thought, was that for one of the first times since he'd met Tony, the man had held his gaze square on, and he hadn't said word.

 

* * *

 

Steve reads over hundreds and hundreds of articles he'd somehow missed on his journeys, looking for any kind of Avenger related news that had occurred during his absence. He was looking for something in particular, he just wasn't quite sure of what that something was just yet. He only knew that it was the something they needed in order to have their names reflected positively. Thankfully, nothing major had happened since Loki's descent, but Steve feared that should the Avengers be called to arms, the public may still have a mixed and potentially negative opinion towards their actions. He didn't want that. So, he scoured until his eyes began to ache from the strain of his lamp's soft glow. Most of the articles he found, however, were in direct relation to Tony. Choosing to stay in the public limelight had left Tony exposed like a raw nerve, having his personal life and scenarios overshadow any of the others' supposed wrongdoings. The Captain read through article after article on the growth of Stark Industries, of Tony and Pepper's very civilised, albeit tragic split, and throughout it all, despite the photographs showing just a little strain behind Tony's eyes, Stark always provided interviews. He discussed his personal life and brushed away his pain with offhanded remarks and wit, and Steve wondered if this was in anyway intentional on Tony's behalf. He had once denounced Tony, claiming he was no hero, but his actions on that day with the nuke had thrown whatever perspective Steve had had at the time completely out the window. Well, most. He still believed that Tony was an ass, but from that day on, he'd thought more about _why_ Tony might have become the ass he was. Steve had been fond of Tony's father, and whilst their manic qualities and other features were strikingly similar, it was painfully obvious that Tony was striving to outrun his father's shadow. Steve knew the type. At least, he thought he knew.

It took Steve back to his recruitment days, and his mind hazed a little. He'd have always picked Tony to have been the smooth talking jock that, when it came down to it, didn't have much gusto to get anything done. But when Tony took a hold of the missile that day and signed a one way ticket, Steve saw Tony Stark as a man full of insecurities, but full of belief that he knew what he was doing was the right thing to do. That he had to be selfless for those he loved. Steve looked at Tony and saw a scrawny kid throwing himself atop a dummy grenade and just accepting that that was how it had to be. Steve looked at Tony and saw himself.

The Captain's brow creased as he frowned, his lips pulling into a tight line. He placed the article in his fingertips back on the table top. He owed someone an apology.

 

* * *

 

"Mister Stark?"

"What is it?"

"Captain Rogers has been waiting for you to acknowledge his presence, sir."

Steve stood awkwardly in the doorway whilst Tony and Jarvis engaged in their casual banter. Tony's back was to him, as he leant over a magnifying glass and what looked to be some kind of computer chip, soldering at one thing or another.

"Afternoon, Cap," Tony called up, not bothering to even face the Captain or look up from his work, as he continued soldering.

"It's two in the morning, sir."

Jarvis seemed to have finally pulled a reaction that time, as Tony straightened himself up, slid his goggles off of his eyes and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Two in the morning?"

"Yes sir."

"Huh."

Tony absentmindedly held his goggles out to the side, as he turned to face Steve. Steve bit back a small smile as Dummy took the goggles a little too enthusiastically from Tony's grip, and one of the bands snapped. Tony closed his eyes tightly, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Dummy was making apologetic sounds, or at least as apologetic as he could sound for a robot, and Tony let out a sigh.

"Thin ice. Perpetually thin ice," He said, eyeing off the robot even as it slunk off, reminding Steve of a kicked puppy. Tony removed his gloves and made a half hearted attempt to flatten his oily and sweat slicked hair. He seemed to give up and headed for a sink at the side of the lab. "What brings you to my humble abode in the wee hours of the morning then, pops?"

Steve bit back the retort hovering on his tongue, and reminded himself of why he was here.

"An apology."

Tony faltered in his steps to the sink, absentmindedly not looking up from the towel he was using to wipe at his hands.

"What have I done now?" Tony asked, his momentary surprise quickly replaced with his usual air of self confidence. "I'm not going to apologise for being such a fantastic host, if that's it. You know, I just can't. It goes against my moral code. Nobody likes a liar, Rogers."

"Back on the helicarrier," Steve began, and he hesitated briefly, as he saw Tony visibly tense, "Some things were said that-"

"You're right. Tensions were pretty high. Loki's mind voodoo really didn't help matters," Tony shrugged, drying his hands off and tossing the now filthy towel onto Dummy's outstretched arm, "At least, Loki's voodoo is my excuse for being an ass. I kind of wish he was around a little more. It was nice to have someone to pin the blame onto. But if it helps you sleep at night, with all sincerity, you're entitled to a 'my bad'. So, my bad."

Steve shook his head, blinking back the mild confusion that Tony always gave him whenever he rambled.

"What?" Steve began, but shook his head before Tony could reply. "No, wait. I'm trying to apologise to you. I'm... sorry. I had no right to have judged you so quickly. You're every bit of a hero as the rest of us, if not more."

Tony's expression was one that Steve had yet to see on him, almost as if the billionaire playboy was... guilty? It was only there for a few moments, before the casual charm that Tony usually threw off resurfaced. Yet another unsettling moment with Tony within the space of 48 hours.

"You kill me," Tony suddenly laughed, clapping Steve on the shoulder and giving it a friendly squeeze, "I'm going to hit the hay. You should do the same. Never know when some lunatic might appear from another world, or whenever some lowly kitten might get stuck in a tree, or whatever it is you do in your spare time donning the stars and stripes."

As Tony steered Steve to the exit by his shoulder, the Captain near dumbfounded, Steve realised that even if he continued to speak or tried to explain himself, the conversation was over. And as it was in most cases, Tony had been the one to have the last word.

 

* * *

 

Bruce actually stopped looking at his research paper, lowered his glasses and leant over his desk, as Steve shifted awkwardly under the scientist's gaze.

"You... what?"

"I attempted to apologise. He didn't seem to really expect it, nor did he accept it."

Bruce had that same tiny smile licking at his lips, almost exasperated, as he shook his head at Steve slightly.

"What exactly transpired?" Bruce asked, and Steve nodded, recounting everything in detail, right down to Tony clapping him on the shoulder and steering him out. Bruce let out a soft sigh, his smile growing slightly.

"And what, from that, made you believe that he hadn't accepted your apology?"

"He didn't say anything, so I assumed..." Steve said, suddenly embarrassed, fighting back a light blush from his cheeks under Bruce's scrutiny.

"Stark might talk more than anyone appreciates him doing so, but he doesn't often _say_ much," Bruce offered a small shrug, "He may seem easy to read, but he's a little more complicated than most people think."

"He comes across as quite blunt in interviews," Steve defended, but Bruce let out a small "hmph" of laughter. There was a brief silence then, before Steve took that as his queue to leave. As he turned, however, Bruce spoke quietly.

"What made you decide to apologise?"

Steve faltered before he turned, his mind stalling with the completely reasonable question presented to him.

"I was wrong. I've always believed it was the right thing to do, to admit when you were wrong."

Bruce nodded, pushing his glasses back up his nose, and turning back to his research paper. "You're more alike than I think either of you would care to admit," Bruce smiled, his gaze not shifting from his paper, even as he turned the page and scrawled a note beside a formula of some sorts. Steve went to argue against this, but he couldn't deny the truth behind Bruce's words. Instead, he turned and left the lab, letting the door close with a hiss behind him, and no idea where to go from there.

 

* * *

 

Time passed with little happening. Tony still spent most of his time in the lab, Clint spent most of his time on the shooting range or hidden away in his bedroom, Bruce spent most of his time knowing what everyone else was doing with _their_ time, and Natasha spent most of her time at SHIELD. It had been two months since Steve had moved in with the others before he saw Natasha for the first time. He'd woken up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, and headed to the nearest kitchen, passing the main lounge on the way there. Clint was up late, as was the norm, watching some kind of horror movie, eyes transfixed to the screen. Natasha was fast asleep beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. She looked more at ease than Steve had ever recalled seeing before, but even in sleep, she looked exhausted. She had dark circles beneath her eyes, her hair was a little unkempt, and her skin was slightly paler than he could recall. She didn't look well. Steve quietly stepped into the lounge, and Clint looked towards him, offering a brief nod of his head to recognise his presence. He picked up one of the blankets on the end of the sofa, and placed it over Natasha, as she shifted just slightly, Clint tucking it in behind her back and mouthing a genuine 'thank you' in Steve's direction. Steve offered a small smile, and Clint's lips flicked up by the tiniest of margins, before he returned to his movie.

Steve poured himself a glass of water before heading back to his room. He paused as he reached the door, however, and realized that his mind was still well beyond active. There would be no chance of sleep any time in Steve's near future. He let out a defeated sigh, and instead, walked to the gym with his glass of water in hand. If worse came to worst, he could exhaust himself into sleeping. He stretched again, his back popping, and he felt that rush of endorphins flood over him briefly. Why that felt so good, he'd never know, but he rolled his neck and shoulders until they too, did the same. He didn't want to overstretch, less he put a little too much strain on himself during his workout, but he pumped his legs a little before pushing open the gym door, only to find that it was already occupied.

Tony was punching away at a bag, his Bluetooth headset placed firmly against his head, and his brows furrowed. Tony couldn't tell whether the furrowed brows were from concentration, or in response to the seemingly heated conversation he was engaged in. Not wanting to pry, Steve kept to himself and hung up his own punching bag, as Tony continued his exercise. Without meaning to eavesdrop, Steve quickly pieced together that the person on the other end of the line was Pepper, and his curiosity piqued just a little more. Tony and Pepper had remained friends through their breakup, both wanting nothing but the best for Stark industries. After all, the two had been professionally involved and then close friends well before anything else, and there was nobody else who knew Tony like Pepper Potts did. If anybody could have stuck by Tony through good, bad, and ugly times, it was Pepper. Steve was a little concerned, however, that the two seemed to be having an argument on the phone at this time of night.

"I'm just saying that I did what I could. I'm not sure how many people would expect more than that," Tony argued, "There's a certain persona that goes with the outfit, you know?"

There was a brief pause, and Steve awkwardly began strapping his hands, not being able to resist listening in.

"I'm well aware of what you do for the company, Pep. I'd not have boosted you up to the position you're in if I wasn't at _least_ seventy percent sure you wouldn't goof."

Steve recognised this as one of Tony's attempt at lightening the situation, but Pepper didn't seem to want a bar, as Tony let out a defeated sigh not that long after. It was then that Tony looked over in Steve's direction, and the pair briefly made eye contact. Steve blushed, aware that he'd been caught eavesdropping, as Tony frowned slightly and lowered his voice when he spoke further. Steve decided to focus on the task at hand, and began a slow and steady pace, not wanting to over exert himself too early on.

Once he got started, it was hard to stop, his mind blocking out everyone and everything aside from the steady pounding of his hands against the bag. Tony had done God knows what to reinforce the bags, one of the things Steve assumed Tony had meant when he said he'd made the tower 'Avenger capable', so Steve no longer had the concern of the bags breaking apart now that his strength was almost too much for even Steve to handle. He could still recall, painfully clearly, how he'd been before the serum. How when he'd gone to the gym, he was jeered at by the other local boys. How each time he'd hit the bag, a little bit of pain would shoot through his underdeveloped arms. Yet, he'd still keep punching, occasionally with Bucky cheering him on from the sidelines and sending death glares towards anyone who would do otherwise. Bucky.

Steve felt his breath catch in his throat, and he paused briefly, feeling as if everything would collapse around him, but all he had to do was breathe. Just breathe. Steve forced it upon himself, inhale, exhale, and he kept punching until the world stopped spinning. But his heart still ached, and his eyes still burned with the threat of tears he knew would never come. He'd wanted to, many times, give into the weakness of his own tears, but he couldn't any more. Whether it was the serum or the amount of time he'd spent in the ice, or God only knew, no tears would ever fall. So he channelled it all, through his arms that no longer shuddered from the blows, into his fists, that no longer ached at each punch. He could feel the sweat building, sliding down his face and into his eyes, a harsh sting of salt, and still he kept punching. Yet, Bucky was still there, a hand extended as he hung off that railing, his eyes wide as his grip failed and Steve choked the thought away, fists falling harder and harder. Instead of Bucky, now, Peggy. Beautiful Peggy, curly hair falling against her shoulders, sly smirk along her lips as those eyes stared at him. Soft lips, as they pressed against Steve's, a plea within them on their own right. A promise of a date he'd never fulfilled. Everything burned, and Steve couldn't stop it. His mind was racing as fast as his heart was, and in the back of his mind, he still had to continue to remind himself to breathe. He punched again, and this time, there was more force behind it than he ever thought he'd applied to anything in his life. The bag tore, spilling its contents onto the floor, as Steve stood, panting as the sweat poured off of him, images still burned into his brain. His lungs burned, his eyes burned, his throat _burned_.

He flinched noticeably, as a hand touched his shoulder. His chest heaved as he choked for air, turning his gaze to meet Tony's. The billionaire's eyes were fixed on his own, concern printed across his entire face.

"Cap?" He prompted quietly, and Steve swallowed thickly, his lungs gradually filling with enough air as he stood and felt a tremor rip through him. Tony squeezed his shoulder, and Steve felt the world coming back to him. He wasn't completely alone.

"Sorry," he managed meekly, as he gestured at the ruined bag and its spilled contents. Tony shook his head, steering Steve as he had that night of Steve's apology, towards the door.

"Hey, no, that's actually one of the best things that could've happened," Tony shrugged, pushing Steve through the gym door and walking down the hall, "Jarvis'll have all the data there. We can make sure uh, incidents... like that... don't happen again."

Steve felt sick with shame, knowing full well that Tony was attempting to treat that complete and utter breakdown as a minor inconvenience. He didn't know whether Tony was doing that for his own sake or for Steve's. Tony dropped his hand from Steve's shoulder, seemingly convinced that the blonde wouldn't be having an immediate breakdown, as they entered the kitchen. Steve reluctantly sat at a stool by the counter, as Tony gestured to it. Tony then reached into the fridge and pulled out two bottles of liquid, light orange in colour, and tossed one to Steve.

"A pick me up," Tony said by way of explanation, before starting to slam his bottle down. Steve uncapped his own and sniffed at the liquid, before hesitantly taking a sip.

"If I'd have wanted to poison you, Rogers," Tony smirked, "I'd have had multiple opportunities before now."

Steve frowned guiltily, before drinking at a steadier pace. The clock on the wall read half past four, and Steve ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit more than anything else. Tony didn't say a word, instead choosing to rummage through the cupboards. Steve felt like he owed his housemate an explanation, but had absolutely no idea where to begin. Aside from that, he doubted he really wanted to provide one, or even if Tony would want to hear it.

"I get 'em sometimes," Tony said, breaking the silence, before shoving a doughnut into his mouth and chewing languidly, casually meeting Steve's gaze and leaning back against the pantry. He dangled the bag of doughnuts at the Captain, before Steve politely shook his head. Tony shrugged and crammed another into his mouth, before tossing the bag on the counter between them. Steve said nothing, not sure of what Tony was trying to say, and not wanting to guess in case he was wrong. Tony chewed for another couple of minutes, scratching at his beard, before straightening up, only to lean forward on the counter instead.

"The flashbacks, that is," Tony continued, as if there hadn't just been an extended silence hanging in the air, "I mean, I know you've got your own past there Spangles, but I'm guessing you've never tried to ease it off your mind. I imagine it's been chewing you up like even I wouldn't believe."

Steve almost felt angry. How dare Tony pry and make such assumptions? It was completely... accurate. It was then that Steve realised he couldn't really be angry at Tony for doing what Tony did best; being blunt. Instead, Steve turned the focus back to Tony.

"What are yours?" Steve asked quietly, and Tony seized up briefly, clearly not expecting such a simple question. He brushed it off quickly, however, and shrugged.

"One year we made _far_ less profit than expected. Couldn't afford the new jet. Was the worst Christmas ever," Tony forced a fake shudder, and Steve creased his brow, not amused. He finished his drink and placed the bottle on the counter. He should have known better than to expect Tony to be serious. Steve politely thanked Tony for the drink and stood up to head for bed.

"A lot happened whilst you were in ice, Cap," Tony said suddenly, and Steve paused, turning back to face his housemate, "Kidnappings, a couple of near deaths, rogue robotic attacks, you know how it is."

Steve met Tony's gaze, and could see the genius was quietly reflecting on a few memories of his own. This time, a genuine shudder ran over Tony's body, and for the first time that Steve could recall, Tony was the first to break eye contact.

"The world isn't sunshine and daisies. Some horrible shit has happened over the years. It's a right royal shame that you were a popsicle for so long there, Captain," Tony shook his head, slamming down the last dregs of his drink, "But in another way, you were lucky enough to not have seen some of the worst shit come to life."

Steve frowned, and considered arguing that point vehemently, but instead, he turned away. He was suddenly feeling a little worse for wear, fatigue finally starting to set in, realising that maybe he wasn't the only one stuck reliving the past and feeling all the more selfish for the way he was handling it.

"I'm gonna hit the hay," Steve said quietly, "Thanks, Tony."

"Sleep well, Steve."

It took the captain until he was laying in bed, just before he let sleep take its hold, to realise that Tony had called him by his first name for the first time since he'd moved in.

 

* * *

 

The next time the Avengers were called to action as an entire team, it had been almost 7 months since Loki had made his presence known. Fury had shown up unannounced one morning as Bruce, Steve, and Tony, nursing a mother of a hangover, were languidly sitting around the dining table for breakfast.

"Jarvis, what have I told you about letting strangers in?" Tony groaned, as Fury stood before them, his hands behind his back.

"I can assure you, sir, I tried my best."

"That he did," Fury said quietly, "Despite the fact I was _meant_ to have clearance at _all_ times."

"Must have slipped my mind," Tony shrugged, as Bruce topped up Tony's mug with more coffee.

"We have a situation," Fury explained, dismissing Tony's attitude. It seemed Steve wasn't the only one who handled Tony's sulking with dismissive authority. He then tossed several manila folders onto the table, as Natasha slipped wordlessly into the room and sat beside Steve, picking up a folder of her own. Steve flicked through the folder, not quite understanding what he was reading. By this account, there was a large terrorist organisation on the prowl, but everything else seemed so out of his time that he struggled to grasp the Commander's concerns.

"So wait, let me get this straight," Tony said, holding his folder in his hand, as all attention turned to him, "People still use paper documents? I'm a little insulted. I set the team up with a half decent, no, _brilliant_ communications and file storage system, and we're back to the caveman days of manila folders?"

"I believe you're neglecting the issue at hand, Mister Stark," Fury said sternly, through gritted teeth, and Tony waved a hand.

"Oh, and the terrorist thing, yeah. What's the deal?"

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Steve would have smiled. As it was, however, Fury was throwing Tony a death glare so intense that even Tony was withering a little underneath it.

"They're calling themselves 'Acidity'," Fury began, and Tony let out a disapproving snort, clearly amused by the name, "And they're a little more worthy of your concern than you seem to think, Mister Stark. We've lost eight of our finest in the past month or so tracking them down, with little luck and a whole lotta grief."

Steve took a sidelong glance at Natasha, who was looking even more rundown than usual, and a pang of understanding went through him.

"I hate to drop the M word, but it seems we're dealing with a little more than science, when it comes to these individuals," Fury explained and Tony frowned noticeably, removing his sunglasses and laying them on the table.

"Hocus pocus? Are we being serious?" Tony asked, and Fury fixed him with another unwavering gaze.

"I'd think you'd understand better than most, Mister Stark, that stranger things have happened. It seems that since our Asgardian friends made their appearance _very_ publically well known, minor groups with powers beyond our understanding are starting to crop up at an increasing rate."

"Speaking of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, have we heard from Thunder Thighs lately?" Tony asked, as Fury shook his head, "Because realistically, is there a chance 'hocus pocus' could just translate to 'other worldly'?"

"That, we are yet to neither confirm nor deny. That's where the Avengers step in."

Steve looked at the file again, reading over and over about the countless acts of destruction and violence that Acidity had committed thus far, concern creeping across his features as he realised the acts had gradually gotten worse over time.

"It says here that the last agent to have been sent to search for them has gone missing?" Steve prompted, as Fury nodded, "I thought all of your agents were tracked as part of their contractual agreement?"

"The last time we received a signal was at this location," Fury explained, throwing down an aerial photo of what seemed to be a desert area, and a small, bomb ravaged campsite. Steve watched with growing curiosity, as Fury deliberately turned his attention to Tony, whose face had paled quite significantly. Bruce threw a concerned glance at the billionaire's expression, before taking the picture from Tony's view, to study, or so it would seem.

"What did you find there?" Bruce asked, as Natasha spoke for the first time.

"Nothing but debris and rubble. There was barely any sign that anyone had even been there, aside from those old campsite remains," Natasha flicked her gaze to Tony, before returning back to her file, "It's as if the agent in question completely vanished. No signs of struggle, no signs of injury, no signs of vehicles. Not a thing."

"Well!" Tony clapped once, standing abruptly, and finishing the last of his coffee, "I'll uh, get back to you on that one then, Commander. I imagine a decision can be reached either way. You know how I am with studying, can't really work well with a crowd. Besides, I have that thing. That I need to do. You know, the thing."

Natasha shifted her gaze to the table, staring blankly, as Bruce avoided Tony's gaze, brow furrowed.

"Best you go and study then, Stark," Fury resigned, as Tony clucked his tongue once more as he headed for the door.

"Manila folders, I tell you..." He muttered, heading out of the door with an airy wave of his hand.

There was an awkward silence then, before Steve cleared his throat, not really knowing what had just transpired, but aware that something about this new threat had to be done.

"When are we expected to leave?" Steve asked, and Fury turned his gaze to him.

"Tomorrow morning. Gives you plenty of time to do your research, and whatever else that may be required," At this, Fury met Bruce's gaze.

"He'll come," Bruce said without hesitation, and Fury left with a nod and no further word.

Steve didn't ask, but rather, he excused himself and headed for where he thought Tony may be.

 

* * *

 

"My apologies, Captain, but Mister Stark has requested that he not be disturbed," the polite voice of Tony's favourite Artificial Intelligence replied to Steve's request for access to the lab.

"It's Avengers related, Jarvis."

"I'm aware, Captain. However, I must insist that in this instance-"

"Tony?" Steve asked, ignoring the AI's response and knocking on the door to the lab. There was an extended silence, and Steve pressed his forehead against the glass door, trying to spot Tony in the darkness. It seemed as if Tony had all the shutters down. There was a dim glow by the window, and Steve assumed it was one of Tony's tablet devices or the likes.

"Tony?" Steve repeated, after knocking once again. The glow shifted slightly, and there was another pause. Steve thought he could hear Jarvis saying something on the other side of the glass, but the soundproofing was enough that he couldn't quite make it out. He didn't need to for much longer however, as the door slid open moments later. Steve stepped inside, and heard Tony murmur something, just before the lights flicked on.

"It's an interesting read, I gotta say," Tony said by way of greeting, his eyes raking over the folder before him, "The kind of stuff bedtime stories are made of."

Steve didn't say anything, as he took in Tony's intense gaze on the page, a glass of what looked to be bourbon in his fingers as he read.

"Tony, it's not even noon."

"It's evening somewhere. Australia, I bet. Jarvis, what's the time in Australia right about now?" Tony asked, waving his bourbon as he asked.

"Depends on the state, sir."

"Is it _night_ time?" Tony asked, frustration in his tone.

"Yes sir."

"There you go, Cap. Plenty late to be drinking," Tony defended, finally meeting Steve's gaze for the first time since the captain had entered the lab. Steve put on his best Captain America face, and Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and clenched his eyes shut.

"You're really... annoying when you do that," he mumbled into his hand, Steve resisting the urge to place his hands on his hips.

"What was that all about?" Steve asked quietly, and Tony waved a hand airily, taking another long swig of his drink with the other.

"I kept thinking that myself. Jarvis is meant to be top of the line and Fury still manages to worm his way in," Tony deflected, " Every time I fix a security flaw, Fury finds another. Maybe you were right to worry about security after all."

"My apologies, sir," Jarvis remarked, as Tony drained the last of his drink, holding his glass out expectantly.

"Not your fault," Tony shrugged, as Steve shook his head.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Tony sighed as Dummy finally made his way over and took the glass from Tony's hand, heading to the bar. Tony asked for Jarvis to lift the shutter nearest to where he was sitting, and the playboy lost a little of the life from his eyes as he gazed out the window. Suddenly, Steve felt as if he were intruding. Something about this moment for Tony seemed so raw, so personal, that Steve felt he had no right to be there. Tony, however, began to speak to the Captain regardless, tapping the device in his chest.

"Did you read my file?" Tony asked, as Steve shook his head. He'd been handed it by Fury at one point, as he had with all of the others, but had steeled himself and refused to judge his team mates on their past, wishing only to know them by their actions in the now and the future. It was how it had been during the war, and how it should be for anywhere else. You earn a comrade's story, you don't read about it. Tony looked momentarily surprised at this, before turning his gaze back out the window at the city below.

"I was involved in supplying the military with ammunitions. It was kind of my 'thing'," Tony began, and Steve nodded. That much he had read from articles.

"I was out with the army when our convoy was attacked. I was yanked from where I lay and taken to some little crapshack in the middle of the desert. They wanted me to make them a missile that would probably have started the next world war. This," Tony said, tapping at the device on his chest once again, "Was created there. So was the first Iron Man suit, so to speak. I dunno what the hell they were doing in the time it took me to make it, because they never seemed to really catch on, but I got away with it and it kept me alive."

Tony hesitated then, as if debating whether or not to share more. He pressed on, however, as Dummy brought him another drink.

"There was someone held captive with me. He wasn't so lucky. He gave his life making sure I kept mine." Steve had never seen a man slam down a full strength spirit so quickly in his life. Tony spluttered slightly, handing Dummy the now empty glass, "Needless to say, I dropped out of weapons after that."

Steve remained quiet for quite some time, before moving over to sit beside Tony on the couch, his gaze fixed outside as well. Dummy attempted to hand him a drink, but Steve awkwardly shook his head.

"To me, Dummy," Tony sighed, as the robot moved to the other side of the couch.

"That picture of the desert..." Steve began slowly, and Tony nodded.

"I went back there with a new suit. Did whatever damage I could. Would have recognised it from a mile away," Tony explained, moving to take a sip from his drink, but lowering it in thought instead. He set it on the coffee table beside him, where Dummy moved to pick it up, before Tony swatted at him without even shifting his gaze. The robot seemed to flinch, before heading away.

"You were right, Cap, I'm no hero. I'm a man that other people make meaningless sacrifices for, and use other people's downfalls for my own gain."

Steve sat silently, his hands folded politely in his lap, although he wrung them slightly, wanting to say or do something, anything, to let Tony know that it was going to be alright, and he was horribly, horribly wrong. He knew how selfless Tony was, seen an act of it with his own eyes. He knew how much of a front Tony put up when it came to charitable donations, throwing a carefree air, pretending like it was a chore. But he'd seen tiny signs that showed that most of what Tony did was a front. Tony had donated money to a children's hospital, and there was a colour photo spread in the papers of a young girl handing him a toy bear, a softer light than was the norm in Tony's eyes. 'Not exactly my favourite thing to cuddle of a night time', Tony had notoriously flirted with the reporter, and all discussions of the gift had vanished. Steve hadn't thought much of it, until he'd approached Tony's lab for the first time, and seen that very same bear in a prime position on the inventor's desk. As Tony sat there, however, offering a tiny insight into who the _real_ Tony Stark was, Steve couldn't imagine what that would have been like, and despite all of his hardships in life, he saw Tony's as being worse. The serum had been a blessing for Steve, whilst the Iron Man suit, at times, seemed to be a curse for Tony.

"Maybe he saw the potential you have in you. I'm sure he knew what you were capable of before you yourself did," Steve offered, and Tony offered a humourless snort of laughter.

"Potential the suit has..." Tony corrected, but Steve shook his head.

"I read an article once where a great man once said that Iron Man and Tony Stark are one and the same. They don't exist without the other."

Tony offered a small smile, as he ran a hand through his own hair, a habit Steve was all too aware of with himself.

"Even great men can be wrong. Ooh boy can they be wrong," Tony murmured, and Steve noticed his voice was slightly slurred. It seemed the alcohol was taking its effect.

"We need you to start believing in yourself as much as everyone else does," Steve said, slightly frustrated, and his Captain America voice coming back full force. It was enough to draw Tony's gaze to his own.

"The Avengers needs Iron Man as much as it needs anybody else. The _world_ needs Iron Man, needs Tony _Stark_ more than they're probably willing to give credit for," Steve continued, and Tony's gaze intensified. His expression was serious, the unbelieving smirk slipping away, as a few moments passed.

"Even the mighty Captain America, fearless, courageous, America's sweetheart incarnated, would ask for my help?" Tony asked, as Steve gave a small nod. The air felt a bit thicker, as Tony refused to break eye contact, holding Steve's gaze firmly, a frown along his lips as if he were lost in thought.

"Sir?" Jarvis interrupted.

"Yes?"

"Doctor Banner is requesting your presence."

Tony didn't say a word, still holding Steve's gaze.

"Sir?" Jarvis prompted after a few moments.

"Alright, alright. Tell him I'll be there in ten, and I'm not an idiot, I know what he's going to say," Tony rushed, taking one last sip from his glass, still almost full, before calling Dummy over, finally breaking away from Steve's gaze. He handed the robot his glass and patted the automatic arm affectionately, almost apologetically, as he stood.

"Tony", Steve floundered, as Stark turned with a questioning raise of his brow, "There's no shame in asking for help."

Tony's lips parted, as if he were going to speak, but he closed them, offering a characteristic charming smile and squeezing Steve's shoulder again.

"You're alright for an old guy," Tony said, before taking up his coat and heading out of the lab, leaving Steve to his thoughts as he gazed out the window.

 

* * *

 

Steve was still a little awed each time he saw the Iron Man suit actually being worn, even if Tony had the helmet off. They were sitting on a SHIELD issued plane, of which Tony was quick to remark was sub-par compared to anything he could have provided for the team, despite it being far more advanced than anything of Steve's time. Tony indeed had his helmet off, as he chattered away somewhat aimlessly about all of the imperfections that the craft offered. Steve offered a small smile in Bruce's direction, even as the doctor sweat slightly. Confined spaces made him nervous, Bruce had confessed, and Steve could easily see why. Natasha was seated by the pilot, and Clint had stayed back at base. Steve had been told earlier that day that the reason Clint had been spending so much time at the tower was because he'd been forced onto extended leave, with Fury citing a potential threat due to post traumatic stress disorder that Clint had received from Loki's mind meddling the last time they'd been together as a team. No member had argued against the decision as much as Natasha or Steve, but Nick Fury was not a man who would budge easily. Steve had resigned to following orders, and Natasha had lividly agreed to tag along. Steve wondered if Fury's decision had caused more of a bad mindset for the team than letting Clint come along would have. Steve thought that the SHIELD agent was more than capable of fighting, but it had been drilled into him to follow orders, and he hadn't managed to break that habit as of yet.

They'd been in the air for several hours, after a stopover in which Tony and Bruce had absolutely demolished a banquet lunch prepared by SHIELD, and with the speed at which their aircraft flew, Steve knew it wouldn't be much longer until they reached their destination. The plan was pretty straight forward. They were to head in and do a secondary scan of the area where the last agent had gone missing, after reports of activity had been made before Fury had shown up the day prior to their departure. If they found anything, all the better. If not, they were to meet back at Stark Tower and debrief Fury, before being given further intel and directives. Steve startled then, as Tony's helmet flicked up with a mechanical 'clunk', and he could hear Jarvis speaking through it.

"Sir, incoming call from Miss Potts."

"It can wait," Tony waved dismissively, but Jarvis had seemingly already answered the call.

"Ah, Pepper," Tony grimaced, as Bruce gave a knowing smile, "No, of course not. Now is a peachy time. I'm kind of on my way to the desert though."

Pepper's sigh was loud enough that it was audible even from Steve's distance. It seemed Tony had made previous arrangements, which Pepper would now have to cover him for. He cringed at her tone of voice, before offering an apology and guaranteeing he'd make up for it several times, before Pepper disconnected the call with a resigned sigh.

"You'll be the death of her," Bruce chided, and Tony's brow furrowed.

"Yeah, that's what she said when she called it off."

It was a bit of a sudden revelation, and Bruce shifted uncomfortably, as both Tony and Steve ran a hand through their hair awkwardly. Steve met Tony's eyes as they did so, and the two shared in an awkward laugh.

"Approaching the drop zone," the pilot crackled through the speakers, as Tony grinned mischievously, pressing a button to drop the helmet over his face.

"Looks like it's go time, gentlemen," He said, his voice slightly tinny through the suit. Bruce checked and rechecked his parachute as Natasha climbed into the back with the rest of them. She gave Bruce and Steve an encouraging nod, turning to face Tony.

"Are you going to be alright?" She asked, and Steve watched as Tony put a hand over his chest plate.

"Natasha, what _is_ this side of you? Concerned for my welfare? I'm... touched..." He remarked, and even though Steve couldn't see his face, he knew that Tony was feigning both surprise and flattery, despite the tone of his voice. Natasha rolled her eyes and clocked him in the arm, almost playfully. She pulled on her own parachute, as Steve tightened his own, and the hatch door of the plane opened. Natasha waited for the go ahead from the pilot, before she was first to leap from the plane, with Bruce holding his breath and jumping out shortly after, seemingly before he could change his mind. Tony flicked his helmet open once more, as Steve looked out uncertainly from the hatch.

"You right there Cap?" Tony asked, before Steve offered a nod. Tony shrugged, flicking his helmet back down and leaping from the plane, his boosters kicking in as he took off through the air.

"Ready to leave, Captain?" The pilot asked, as Steve swallowed thickly. There were plenty of other things he could think of doing, but he nodded firmly and took a breath, before leaping from the plane, his shield pressed firmly against him and his mask clinging to his face. The wind rushed past his ears, and he felt that human rush of adrenaline, as he looked down at the sandy terrain below. There was a brief moment of exhilaration, before his chest seized slightly. They were indeed right near the dropzone, and because Steve had been last to leave, he was closest to the rendezvous point. The point where, it turned out, those signs of activity were not wrong. He realised that one of the men below were locked onto him with... Was that a rocket launcher?

Steve barely had time to register, before a missile was sailing through the air towards him with frightening speed. He held out his shield, even as the missile exploded on impact with it. Steve was slightly winded, but otherwise unharmed, feeling a bit lighter than before. He rolled to the side, still falling, and pulled for his chute to open. That was when he realised that the lack of weight was because his parachute had been burned by the explosion and partially torn from its pack. It wasn't deploying. Steve had a moment of panic, before he saw the gunman below hit with several beams of light, as Steve fell closer and closer to the Earth. It was then that he spluttered, as he was caught by the waist, the air being ripped from his lungs.

"Wa-hey!" he heard Tony through his earpiece, as Steve rolled through the air once more. It was then that he realised that there were more shots being fired, and it was Tony who had caught him mid flight.

"You alright Spangles?" Tony asked, slightly breathless, as Steve nodded, "Good. Cause I'm gonna, you know, throw you at those guys."

Steve barely had a chance to ask " _What_?" before Tony had stuck to his word. They were close enough to the ground for it to have not been too much of a problem, but as Steve was bowled into the ground forces, knocking them off their feet, he himself staggered a bit to get up.

"Are you _crazy_?!" Steve barked, as he heard Tony let out a laugh, before firing more of his weapons at the remaining individuals. There was a cave network nearby, and Steve quickly noticed that the entrance was where the seemingly constant flow of terrorists was pouring from. His attention was quickly drawn back to the men he had bowled over, however, as they started getting to their feet and firing their weapons. Steve kept his shield out as a weapon, as much as for defence. He used it to knock several men out, before using his fists and feet to do the same for the others. There was a thunderous roar then, and a body flew past him, sailing through the air before hitting a wooden crate with a sickening crunch.

The hulk had joined the party.

The team made quick work of the individuals who had come at them from the caves, until the flow eventually stopped. Tony landed beside Steve, placing a hand on his shoulder. The gesture had become more comforting than concerning over the past few weeks, and Steve felt a little reassurance from the weight of his teammate's hand. Tony flipped open his helmet and gave a cheeky grin.

"That was some pretty impressive shieldwork there, gramps," Tony remarked, and Steve nodded in thanks.

"Not too bad yourself, sonny."

"I know I'm brilliant, you don't need to give me praise," Tony offered a fleeting wink, and Steve let a small smile through, as he fought back the urge to roll his eyes. Natasha stood at Tony's other side, and Tony turned his attentions her way, as she wiped at a trail of blood from her mouth.

"All good there, Romanov?" Tony asked, and she smirked.

"You should see the other guys..."

The hulk grunted as he approached, and Steve nodded his acknowledgment of what he knew was Bruce under all that green.

The four of them stood, looking around the area, before they began properly restraining their attackers. Natasha frowned the entire time.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked, as her lips pulled into a tight line.

"Something's not right," She explained, "These aren't like the people we've fought before. They went down too easily. Like lambs at the slaughter."

"Are we seriously complaining over an easy win?" Tony asked, "Seriously?"

"I think we need to go inside," She explained, and Tony's brow creased, before he nodded wordlessly.

After they'd restrained those that had survived (Pretty much just those Steve had fought, as the others tended to use a little more... force), they approached the cave entrance and Natasha lead the way in, the hulk squeezing in just behind her. As Steve moved to step in, he noticed Tony holding back, and turned to face his teammate. Tony had an odd expression on his face, his eyes glazed, and his lips parted slightly, as if stuck in a memory he couldn't quite snap out of.

"Tony..." Steve said gently, as slowly, Tony's eyes returned to normal, and he blinked several times, turning his attention to the Captain. He offered Steve a weak smile, before flipping his helmet down.

"Stark, Rogers, get in here," Natasha spoke through their headsets, and Steve waited for Tony to make the first move. He didn't.

"You ever been back to the crash site?" Tony asked, and Steve wished that his teammate had kept the helmet off, because he would have given anything to read what was on Tony's face as he spoke those words.

"Yes," Steve answered truthfully, trying to push the memory as far away as he could. It had been one of the first places that he'd gone after their first battle. He'd figured if he could have gone back to where it all ended- no, where it all _began_ \- he could get a little more clarity on where he was meant to go next. All it had caused, however, was a surge of bad memories and an aching loneliness he hadn't been able to shake until he was back with his team. He was who he was now, and he'd told himself that he had to stop dwelling on the past or it would tear him apart.

"When did that sinking, tight kind of feeling start to ease up?" Tony asked, a low voice, probing, honest, and a little raw.

"When I came home. When I realised that it was all in the past, that I wasn't as alone or as frightened as I thought I should be, and that I had a job to do. Not just for me, but for everyone else. I had a role to fill, and I had people who would help me fill it."

There was a brief silence then, and despite the helmet hiding Tony's face, Steve could feel Tony's eyes on his own.

"I'll take your word for it."

It was a simple statement, open to interpretation, but after he'd said it, Tony stepped forward and passed Steve, entering the cave. The lights from his suit illuminated it enough for Steve to feel comfortable following after him, shield raised, and his eyes fixed on Tony's back, even as Tony himself forced his stride back into one of false confidence once again.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every two weeks, does that sound fair? I think it sounds fair.

It had been a long trip home. The caves had brought up next to nothing, aside from leftover ammunitions. Natasha had theorised that perhaps there was a secret exit of some sort that any remaining terrorists had escaped through, but they hadn't found it if there was. Bruce had come down from his hulking out midway through the cave trip, providing a very awkward nude presence in the process. Tony thankfully had the sense in him to keep some spare clothes for the doctor stashed inside his suit, and had handed them over promptly, but not before Bruce's dignity had gone out the window. On top of Bruce's awkward silence, Tony had barely said a word on the flight home, not even rising to Fury's teasing banter, as what should have been the norm. 

They greeted Clint on the way in, who wanted as many details as he could get, but Fury had ordered the team not to say a word until he arrived at the tower himself in a few hours time. They'd sent a few of the captives home with some SHIELD agents who had shown up just as the team were departing, so it wasn't an entire loss on their behalf, and yet the team was on edge and frustrated and it was showing. Each team member split off into their own domains, knowing full well that it would be quite some time before Fury showed up. Steve considered the gym, but decided against it, realising he'd not gone a round against the punching bag since he'd broken the last one. He didn't want to risk it.

Steve considered himself in charge of team morale, to an extent, so he felt a little guilt weigh upon him when the team was so obviously down. Natasha would be okay, he realised, now that she'd pulled up half of the couch beside Clint and was now resting her eyes as Clint channel surfed. Steve hoped that there was something between the two of them that was more than friendship. God knows the two of them could use it. He passed Bruce in his musings, who gave the same smile as always, offering a small wave as he disappeared into one of the elevators. Steve let him be, well aware that Bruce would bounce right back after an hour or so working on something in his field of expertise. Bruce had once admitted that, for him, work was just as relaxing, if not more so, than his meditation sessions were. Steve could understand that to an extent. He briefly entertained the thought of seeing where Tony had disappeared to, and offer a sympathetic ear if needed, until he remembered what kind of a mindset he'd been in after seeing the crash site for the first time and decided against that too. Steve frowned slightly, resorting to head to his own bedroom. 

As soon as he got there, he fell back onto his bed, not even bothering to close the door, and placed his hands behind his head. Steve's frown wouldn't ease up, no matter how hard the captain attempted to force it, so he let it remain, running over a multitude of things in his mind. At the core of it all, however, was Tony Stark. Steve had never claimed to be the brightest bulb in the house, far from it even, yet Tony outshone him in so many ways that it made Steve a little uncomfortable. That time that he'd sat beside Tony and had the billionaire's eyes pierce right into him, he'd felt so terribly... bare. He felt as if Tony knew more about Steve than Steve himself did at times, and he hated being so readable, when he himself respected other people's privacy to the highest degree. He wondered if Tony ever looked at Steve and saw himself, as Steve did with Tony.

Something about Tony bothered Steve, made him uneasy, and was somehow familiar all at once. He wondered if it was Tony's likeness to Howard in some ways. Whatever it was, something about Tony was reckless and dangerous, and it bothered Steve to no end. It was completely different to what he had always been taught and trained to be. There were ways that things were meant to happen, certain ways that things were meant to be done, but Tony Stark just didn't play by the rules. However, he wasn't exactly unlikeable either and Steve would be first to admit that he had developed a soft spot for the entrepreneur. Kind of like the little brother figure that was always getting himself into trouble, Tony near constantly pissed Steve off and yet his charm made it difficult to stay angry at him for too long. He'd perhaps been too hard on Tony in the past, too thrown off by his supposed inability to take anything seriously to take Tony himself seriously. Things had been improving, and whilst their initial friction had gotten the entire team off to a shaky start, Tony had gone above and beyond Steve's original judgement, and he'd forgiven and forgotten most of the man he had thought Stark was. Steve jumped then, as Tony himself knocked on the captain's door.

"Tony?" Steve prompted, sitting upright, as Tony waved his hand.

"Nono, no need to get up. Can I come in?" Tony asked, and Steve nodded, sitting up but not moving, as Tony stepped inside and closed the door, falling back onto the couch that Steve had set up against the wall nearest the door.

"Bruce is trying to hunt me down," Tony said by way of explanation, stifling a yawn behind his hand and stretching out along the couch, closing his eyes and kicking off his shoes in the process. Steve was a little puzzled, to say the least, until he realised that perhaps Tony did need his own space, he just didn't want to be alone whilst he took it. So, Steve lay back down, refocusing his attention on the ceiling and stifling a yawn of his own. He didn't say a word, knowing that if Tony wanted to speak, there wasn't a force on the planet that could stop him from doing so.

They lay like that for around half an hour or so, and Steve smirked slightly as he intermittently heard very soft snores coming from Tony's general direction. Steve sat up then, as a different noise escaped Tony's lips. A murmur, as if he were on the verge of sleep talking. Intrigued, Steve watched, as Tony tossed and turned briefly, before he let out a spluttering sound almost a dry sob. Steve jumped slightly then, as Tony's eyes snapped open and the billionaire sat upright, a choked gasp erupting from his lips. Tony blinked a few times, threw a sidelong glance at Steve, before looking away, running a hand through his hair. Tony cleared his throat.

"Awkward."

His voice was a little raspy, a little embarrassed, and Steve felt a little uncomfortable on Tony's behalf. He remembered all too well how it had felt knowing Tony had been watching him. Steve didn't say a word, merely waited for Tony to meet his gaze, his silence seemingly enough to coax Tony to do so.

"Ugggh," Tony groaned, stretching out as casually as he could, lying back down as he finally did look over, "You staring isn't helping."

"Do you dream about it often?" Steve asked, and Tony shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

"Now and then."

Steve remained silent, and Tony squirmed slightly.

"How do you do that Captain America voice when you're not even talking?" Tony grimaced, "It's seriously creepy. Like some kind of deranged super power."

Steve allowed a soft smile to cross his lips, and the next time Tony met his gaze, he let his guard down and smiled a little too, in spite of himself.

"You're a weird guy, Spangles," He said softly whilst stretching, failing to stop a yawn escaping from his lips.

"I'm beyond my years," Steve remarked solemnly, and Tony frowned at this. He turned his attention to Steve's gaze again, both seemingly in a stare off to see who would budge first.

"Sometimes it's like you're looking right through me," Tony spoke, throwing a questioning gaze in Steve's direction, "Like you're seeing right through the bullshit. Nobody's been able to do that before, except for Pepper."

It was Steve that budged first, Tony's gaze and latest statement making him feel uncomfortable once again. Wasn't that the same thing Steve had thought about Tony less than an hour previously?

"Maybe it's another deranged super power."

Tony baulked, letting a smile flit across his lips as he feigned shock.

"Did you... Was that a joke? Did that seriously just happen?" He asked, and Steve let out a small laugh, "Jarvis, make an event in my calendar for today."

"Yes sir?" The electronic voice echoed through the room, and Steve almost startled. It was easy to forget that the AI's presence existed throughout the entire building, even in the exhibition floors and business areas lower down.

"Captain America made a funny."

"Is that all you'd like it to say, sir?"

"Make an added note that there was definite room for improvement."

"Yes sir."

"A lot of improvement."

"Yes sir."

Steve gave a quiet laugh, and Tony nodded, seemingly satisfied as his eyes drifted closed once more.

"You should relax a little more often, Cap. You're slightly more tolerable when you do," Tony remarked, and Steve recognised the borderline insult for what it truly was: a compliment from Tony Stark.

"I could say the same for you," Steve replied, lying back down, smiling to himself, "But I won't."

Steve heard Tony laugh to himself, before a comfortable silence fell over them once again, and Steve felt himself tugged into the clutches of sleep. Steve could get used to the idea of a friendship with Tony Stark, but it wasn't going to be easy to come by.

Fury had arrived and disappeared again after the speediest de-briefing that Steve had ever been involved in in his life. He'd sat and listened as Steve recounted the mission, his memory having been fine tuned over the years to pick up even the smallest details. Anything that he did happen to miss, Natasha jumped in with her input. Fury said that as the individuals they had captured had yet to give up any information and that there wasn't much else to go on until they did, his advice was that the team be on alert and ready to leave at any given time, and then disappeared without a further word. Nobody had even bothered arguing, nodding tiredly before heading to their quarters. They'd said their polite goodnights before heading to their separate abodes, but Tony headed for the kitchen. Steve shook his head, well aware that Stark had a bottomless pit of a stomach, and was likely indulging it a little. The captain didn't know where Stark kept it all, but he was thirsty, and so followed his teammate to the kitchen and waited for Tony to move out of the way of the fridge. Tony pulled out a tub of takeaway and pried the lid open experimentally before cringing away from the tub. He then replaced the lid and put it back in the fridge. Steve frowned.

"If it's bad, why keep it there?"

"My sincere apologies, mother dearest," Tony said with a straight face, making no effort to remove the tub before he grabbed a recent box of stir-fry noodles instead. Steve sighed as Tony handed him a bottle of his special hydration drink, before Tony leant against the counter and watched Steve bin the offending tub, cocking his head to the side and shoveling a large amount of noodles into his mouth with a seemingly magically procured set of chopsticks.

"You're going to choke if you're not careful," Steve warned, as Tony shrugged, shoveling the food even faster. Steve started slamming his drink down, Tony staring just past him as he did so, apparently deep in thought about one thing or another. Steve never really knew how to interpret any of the expressions Tony wore, and so had stopped trying. The captain ignored his companion, choosing instead to roll his shoulders and neck, and arching his back until a pop resounded through the kitchen. Tony was still shoveling food down when Steve let out a satisfied sigh, putting his bottle on the counter just as Tony started choking on his food. The playboy spluttered momentarily, before snatching up the bottle and finishing it off without hesitation. Steve felt his brows crease involuntarily, as Tony beat at his chest just beneath the arc reactor, coughing violently. He couldn't argue too much. Technically it was Tony's house, so everything was Tony's. Even Steve's beverage.

"I did warn you," Steve chided. Stark took a deep breath, leaning against the counter momentarily, before clearing his throat.

"You're not the first and you'll undoubtedly not be the last," Tony shrugged, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, before exhaling deeply, "Went down the wrong hole..."

Steve just shook his head, before turning and heading for his quarters.

"Oh Cap?" Tony called after him, as Steve threw him a glance, "I modified those punching bags. Swing by in the morning and we'll make sure you get back into routine."

Steve just nodded, suddenly uncomfortable, knowing that Tony had noticed his reluctance to head to the gym, and feeling... ashamed.

"Alright."

"Later, then."

"Later."

Steve fell into bed as soon as he got back into his room and half-heartedly wriggled out of his clothes and under the covers, well aware that the day had been exhausting for all involved. He hadn't even managed to properly thank Tony for saving his ass yet, but every time he'd gotten close, he'd bubbled up with annoyance at Iron Man's newest move of 'toss Captain America at the bad guys'. The captain allowed his eyes to drift closed, a frown across his brows and his lips pulled thin.

Steve figured he'd work on forgiving and forgetting one thing at a time, and that particular move was far from being first on his list.

Four days passed of relative calm, with no word from Fury and Natasha relaying that SHIELD still expected the team to be ready at short notice, and that the terrorists the team had apprehended seemed to be under some kind of mind control. This got Tony mentioning the "L" word again, before Fury shot him down, admitting they had been in contact with Thor, and Loki was under strict and constant watch back in Asgard. Somehow, that hadn't made Steve feel any better.

The team had kept to themselves, mostly. At times, Clint and Natasha could be seen together on the couch or at the battle simulation room Tony had newly finished, perfecting their moves on what was becoming their favourite new toy. Bruce and Tony had also been spending their fair share of time together, both working on something that Bruce had tried to explain, but that Steve had just heard as garbled nonsense. Steve took some small comfort in knowing that at least this reference wasn't missed exclusively by him. Once Bruce and Tony got caught up in their science talk, most people were lost. 

Tony and Steve had spent their fair share of time together also, usually with Tony using him as a test pilot for new gym equipment. Tony didn't seem to mind on the occasions that Steve did break something, and if he did, he never mentioned it. They didn't talk overly too much, but when they did, it wasn't necessarily unpleasant. Steve was slowly gaining a little of Tony's trust, which he was finding was not an easy task. Loathe as he was to admit it, he guessed Tony was gaining some of his in return, although he often kept his guard up around the billionaire. He found that Tony appeared to be doing the same around particular subjects.

"You do a mean amount of damage there, Rogers," Tony nodded, letting out a low whistle as he held the punching bag, Steve steadily pounding at it with his fists.

"Yeah, Howard used to say I have a mean swing, but don't worry, I'm only aiming for the bag, I swear," Steve teased, but Tony didn't smile back. Steve brushed it aside and kept punching. It was silent for a few moments, the only sound being Steve's fists' steady rhythm against the bag, until Steve could sense it had changed from a companionable silence to an awkward one, and his punching slowed.

Steve realised his error after a few moments, and took a glove off to run his hand through his hair. Tony seldom spoke of Howard Stark, and when he did, it was hardly in a positive light. Steve didn't know how far he could push, but he thought that perhaps the two of them were friends enough now for him to ask Tony what his gripe with his father was. Steve didn't even have to ask, however, because even before Steve got the first words out, Tony was speaking. Tony wasn't meeting Steve's gaze, but he was speaking without arrogance, without a smirk along his lips, and with genuine sincerity. Steve knew better than to not listen.

"He was absorbed in his work, absorbed in..." Tony's eyes flicked up briefly, before turning back down, "His projects."

Then it all sunk in.

"Me?" Steve asked, and Tony's smirk was back in full force, shrugging casually.

"I guess he saw quicker than I did that you really were more than a bottle full of special, considering how long he spent looking after you and then looking for you. Man was on a mission to serve under the stars and stripes," Tony said teasingly, but it hit Steve like a tonne of bricks. Howard always did have that manic vibe to him, obsessed with tasks, with possessions, with moving forward in his field. Steve was a walking breakthrough, and as a result, from what Tony was saying, Howard Stark had missed out on experiencing a life with his greatest creation to date. His son.

"Tony, I..." Steve began, but couldn't find the words, Tony radiating ego through his every pore, shrugging nonchalantly as he cracked his knuckles. Steve went to speak again, but was still not sure of what he should say, so he instead reached out and clapped a hand on Tony's shoulder. The billionaire often used that tactic now to snap Steve out of a daydream, and simultaneously drag the blonde back to the present with a reassuring nod of the head. It happened more than Steve would have liked to admit.

Either way, Tony's eyes regained focus and he turned his attention to Steve's now piercing gaze, making sure that Tony knew where they stood in terms of speaking about Howard. That is, they wouldn't, not unless Tony asked.

"I'm sorry," Steve said simply, "I had no idea."

Tony seemed to snap back to reality in a rush after that, clapping Steve's outstretched arm on the bicep and offering a trademark grin.

"Hey what? Crazy talk, Spangles. Zoned out is all. But seriously, you need to be giving this bag all you have," Tony moved from Steve's touch and stood behind the punching bag, "If Jarvis isn't collecting data, he's wasting space. We wouldn't want him redundant, he's popular with the ladies."

"Thank you, sir." Jarvis chimed in, and Steve shook his head, letting himself smile.

Tony would never outright accept an apology, but he didn't seem to ever turn them away either.

It was on the sixth day that an informant finally cracked, and it was early on the seventh that the team suited up. Clint had been deemed stable enough to join the team once more, so morale was high. Acidity had been located, or at least a small section of them had, in a small system of caves in central Australia. Tony had cringed at this knowledge, never being a fan of excessive heat if it didn't come hand in hand with a beach and bikini clad women. However, Tony was considerably calmer in the face of a new location, as opposed to the caves. Bruce had packed a duffle bag with a few changes of clothes, just in case, and Tony had finally convinced Fury to let them take a Stark Industries jet, insisting that because the flight was longer, it would benefit the team to sleep on the way there. And if they were going to do that, they should be sleeping in style. Fury, however, would still not let Tony pilot the plane. So, there they were, flying through the air on a jet with flight attendants, and seats that reclined into beds almost rivalling the one Steve had back at Stark Tower. The world had certainly changed, but maybe some things had been for the better. The team were relaxed, with Natasha and Clint already dozing off, before Tony hopped out of his seat and headed over to the SHIELD agents' positions.

"Here," He said, chest near puffing out with pride, before pushing a button and having the chairs completely recline from sitting position into that of a bed. Even Natasha seemed impressed. He then pointed out that there were retractable domed hoods for the beds, meaning everyone could sleep completely isolated if they wished to do so, or combine all five seating positions into any combination they liked. Tony demonstrated by raising both of the hoods of Natasha's and Clint's seats to combine them as a double bed, before raising each one separately, to encase the agents on their own, all with the fiddling of a button. He pointed out that they were not only soundproof, but fully adjustable to suit music needs, temperature needs, or even how soft you wanted your pillow. Steve was a little awed and it seemed the rest of his team was impressed.

"My company's been working on creating luxury airliners for celebrities, politicians, you name it. This particular model has been the most popular for the higher class of working man, and-" Tony began his spiel, before Natasha sighed and raised her hood to encompass herself in solitude, "Well that's plain rude."

"Don't take it too personally," Clint smirked, sliding up the hood of his own pod, "It's only about ten percent because we get tired of your voice. The rest is boredom."

"Yeah thanks, birdbrain," Tony scoffed, as Clint flipped him the finger before slipping his hand back into the near closed pod. Steve fiddled with his chair settings a bit until he was lying down, staring at the ceiling of the plane. Bruce was sitting upright to his right, chair only half reclined, as he read over a book. Tony was still fully upright, chatting up one of the flight attendants to Steve's right. It was all so familiar that Steve gave a small smile. He never thought normality would be coming this easily to him, especially seated between two geniuses in their own rights. And yet, this was Steve's normality and familiarity now. Geniuses, secret agents and super heroes. After some time of casual banter between the three, the flight attendants having been dismissed by Tony until they were needed, Bruce gave a hefty yawn before raising his own pod lid.

"What, no cuddles for the Captain?" Tony asked, as Bruce rolled his eyes, tucking himself under the blanket the flight attendants had provided and smiling softly as the pod closed around him.

Tony was still seated upright, now mindlessly flicking through the in-flight magazine, as Steve let his mind wander. He couldn't help but be a little curious and admittedly excited, heading for a new mission. He had read the files over and over, but they still gave such little indication about what they were going to be encountering when they were over there. Something about fighting as a team again, minus Thor, brought that niggling little smile back to Steve's lips.

"You alright there, Cap?" Tony asked, looking down at Steve as he lay beside him.

"Yes, why?"

"Nobody likes flying that much," Tony said by way of explanation, and Steve nodded.

"It's... familiar. The camaraderie, the brotherhood. It's something that I know," Steve explained, hands behind his head, as he looked up at the ceiling. Tony smiled a little, but returned his gaze to the magazine in his hands.

"Must be nice."

"Undeniably," Steve nodded, wanting to share a little more of it with his teammate, "On the more peaceful nights, when it was safe of course, we'd lay together in our swags, watching the stars until the sun rose."

Tony's attention returned to Steve in a heartbeat.

"Is that so?" He asked, lowering his magazine. Steve nodded, and Tony jumped up, "Well I am about to blow your mind, Captain. Hang onto your tights."

Tony then leant over Steve to grab the pod's controls, as well as grabbing his own. He lowered his chair until it was flat out, and then lay down, taking the controls and raising the roofs of their pods until they met in the middle, before clicking them together. Steve suddenly felt very awkward, as the pair lay in darkness for several moments, Tony muttering something as he fiddled with the controls. Tony must have felt the captain stiffen, as he let out a low chuckle.

"I'm not going to take advantage of you, Cap," Tony said, amusement clear in his voice, "If I were going to do that, I'd have gotten you when you were frozen. Now where is that... ah!"

Tony was holding a small tablet device, and he pushed a few buttons before the roof of the pods were suddenly softly illuminated with stars. Steve couldn't help it as his jaw dropped just slightly, the illusion so real that he reached out to the projected stars in an attempt to touch them.

"So what do you think, being the leading name in stars? I mean, regardless of the stripe factor, because so help me God, Rogers, if you say any of that imagery is stripey, I will eject you from this aircraft," Tony said, leaning back on his own crossed arms behind his head, as Steve swallowed thickly. Sometimes, Tony made and did some amazing things, enough so that a little ego stroking was slightly warranted.

Just slightly.

What Steve meant to say was "It's amazing." Instead, his inner musings and what he intended to say somehow got all muddled up in the between.

"You're amazing," Steve breathed, immediately realising the error of what he had said and inwardly groaned. Tony did not need that kind of an ego boost. He braced a little, waiting for the witty remark, or the 'I know' that he knew was coming, and yet... silence. He chanced turning to face Tony, who was still staring at the ceiling, smug satisfaction on his lips, and Steve felt his cheeks heat up. The genius' expression was hard to read at the best of times, even more so in the dark and even further when he was guarding it as fiercely as he was now.

"I mean, it takes a fair amount of brains to come up with this," Steve said quietly, hoping Tony would let it slide, "It's pretty amazing."

There was another silence, and Steve's cheeks were damnably warm, not so much from embarrassment, but more from how awkward the air had become. It suddenly felt a whole lot thicker, and Steve could tell Tony was judging those words in his head. He was hoping Tony didn't think it was anything more than a friendly compliment at best. He couldn't bear thinking of what Tony might think if he thought Steve was... well... that way inclined. It was wrong, it was against everything Steve ever knew, and it would surely ruin their friendship if Tony had simply misinterpreted, as he was so prone to doing, despite his intelligence. Steve cleared his throat.

"I also used to look up at the sky with some of the girls Bucky would drag me along to double dates with. Those girls swooned at the stars," Steve grinned cheekily, and Tony nodded, offering a small "hmph" of laughter, and turning his gaze back to the pod's roof. It seemed the billionaire had accepted Steve's awkward ramblings as an unspoken apology for making things as such.

"Yeah, the ladies sure love a starlight canvas. It's like flicking a switch on by that point, Cap," Tony gave a wolfish grin, "No effort involved beyond that point. I understand the me being amazing part, too, by the way. Common opinion even if you didn't mean to let it slide. It's perfectly okay to remind me on occasion too, of course."

Steve tried not to roll his eyes, and Tony gave a small laugh, seemingly to himself more than anyone else.

"I know that look," He said patiently, "I remember when Pepper used to-"

Tony stopped then, an odd expression coming across his features, as he furrowed a brow.

"Hey, you ok?" Steve asked, as Tony turned back to meet Steve's gaze. Tony opened his mouth to speak, just as the entire plane shuddered violently, the sound of an explosion ripping through the cabin. Steve hit his head on the pod ceiling, the image of stars suddenly shattered, and Tony let out a string of cuss words.

Tony flung open their pods and did the same for the others, as a flight attendant relayed a message from the pilot that the jet had been struck by what appeared to be hostile enemy fire.

"Suit up," Steve directed at his teammates, as they leapt into action. Steve hastily pulled on his outfit and grabbed his shield from the storage locker above them, his mind buzzing and the three flight attendants crying in panic, as Tony disappeared. Steve reached under the seats and handed them the parachutes they'd need, making sure to make eye contact with them as he handed them over.

"Ma'ams, you have to hold it together. This is an emergency situation. We'll do what we can to ensure your safety, but you need to hold it together," Steve said firmly, no room for argument, as the girls forced their tears away to the best of their abilities and began putting on their parachutes. Bruce gave a concerned frown in Steve's direction, and the captain frowned in return, realising the plane was losing altitude.

They would have to abandon ship.

They'd been ambushed by Acidity. Somehow, the entire team had come out of it alive, as had the pilot and crew of the plane. They'd been further attacked once on the ground, having parachuted to safety. Bruce, not willing to let 'the other guy' out without fully assessing the situation, had been given the task of keeping the civilians safe whilst the others fought.

The enemy had had some kind of laser weaponry, not unlike that of the Chitauri, and Tony had once again attempted to pin it on Loki over their headsets, the Iron Man suit ripping through the sky above them as he did so. Their enemies fought hard, but the Avengers fought harder, and they'd managed to kill off all but two of the attacking forces. Clint had knocked them unconscious and bound them whilst they had the chance, but not before there had been injuries. Natasha had broken her wrist in hand to hand contact and taken a hit to the shoulder, where there was now a nasty burn. Steve had taken a similar hit to his abdomen and one of his calves, although thankfully the one on his leg had primarily been protected by his shield. He was able to walk, but he was in a greater amount of pain than he was willing to admit to. Not when there was still a job to do. Tony landed beside him and flipped up his helmet, causing Steve to raise a brow at the very apparent helmet hair that Tony was sporting.

"That bad, huh?" Tony asked, smoothing his hair down as best as he could, whilst Steve subtly clutched at his aching side.

"Bruce, how are the civilians?" Steve asked over his earpiece. There was a brief silence, before the doctor finally responded.

"There's a small town out this way. A farming family is keeping them here until SHIELD shows up."

Steve nodded, turning to Natasha, who was on her phone with her good hand, seemingly in contact with SHIELD for a pickup. Clint was scanning the area with sharp eyes, on guard whilst the team pulled everything together.

"Tony, we need to check the wreckage. If there are any civilians there..." Steve began, and Tony gave a nod, his helmet closing with a press of a button.

"Need a lift then, Spangles?" He asked, and Steve gave a small nod, hiding his wound behind his shield, as Tony awkwardly looped his arm around the captain and took flight.

Steve made sure that for the few minutes they were in the air, he didn't let Tony see him wincing, as the billionaire had wrapped his arm right around and against his now searing wound. Steve almost thought he was going to black out by the time Tony landed, and as soon as Tony left his side, he very nearly did. He managed to remain conscious, but his knees gave way, and he hit the ground with a thud, as Tony bent down beside him in a heartbeat.

"Wha-hey there, Cap!" Tony cried, as he knelt beside the Captain, "You ok?"

"I uh, may have taken a hit," Steve grimaced, pulling back his shield, as he watched Tony's face visibly pale. Steve had yet to fully inspect the wound properly, but if Tony's expression was any indication, he wasn't in great shape.

"Jesus Christ, Steve," Tony breathed, as the captain propped himself up so he was at least sitting on the dirt.

"Just check the wreckage, we'll deal with this in a moment," Steve ordered, as Tony flicked his helmet up with a disapproving frown.

"Are you mental? Did that time in the ice kill some brain cells? You're injured, Spangles," Tony asked, as Steve held his ground.

"Check the wreckage."

"You have some seriously messed up priorities."

"Check the wreckage."

There was no room for argument in the voice Steve put across then, as Tony made a point to glare, but finally headed over to the plane wreck, a hundred or so metres from where the captain sat. He pressed a hand against the wound, and hissed involuntarily through his teeth. He then pulled his hand back and was momentarily alarmed to find he was bleeding. It seemed there had been more damage than a mere burn after all. He looked down, but the positioning of the wound meant that he couldn't see much, and he started to wonder if he really wanted to anyway.

"How's it looking?" He called out, as Tony shrugged.

"It's almost as if a plane crashed here," Tony replied drily, and Steve fought the urge to roll his eyes, as Tony made his way back over, concern on the billionaire's features. Tony knelt down in front of the captain, and tried to inspect the wound, but Steve shook his head.

"We'll deal with it when we get back to the Tower. Have one of the doctors look at it," Steve argued, blocking Tony's view with his shield.

"Doctor, right!" Tony cried, as if making a sudden realisation, before standing up and holding his earpiece, "Bruce?"

"Yeah?" came the almost immediate reply.

"Cap's been playing the hero a little too hard. You wanna make your way over and take a look?"

"I'll be fine," Steve said determinedly, but Tony ignored him.

"What happened?" Bruce asked, but before Steve could say a word, Tony interrupted.

"Captain America used defence curl, but it failed."

Bruce laughed at this, but Steve failed to see why.

"I'll wait till we're back at the tower," Steve repeated, more for Bruce's sake than anyone else's, even as he felt his head swim a little. He wondered briefly how much blood he had lost, before Tony was kneeling before him once again, grabbing him by the shoulder.

"Hey, stay with me, sleeping beauty," Tony said firmly, as Steve fought off the dizziness as best as he could. He met Tony's concerned gaze, and held onto the arm holding him for support, suddenly feeling a heck of a lot weaker than he had only moments ago. He fought the fogginess creeping through his brain, but he couldn't quite fight hard enough, and he fell forward, landing against Tony's shoulder plate.

"Hey, hey, come on," He heard Tony urge, grabbing Steve by both shoulders now, briefly lifting Steve's eyes to meet his own, "Bruce? Bruce, he's borderline passing out on me here."

Steve made to reassure Bruce he was fine, but he was out before he'd even had the opportunity.

"Cap? Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me. So help me, you do that again, and I'll kill you myself."

Those were the first words to reach Steve's ears as he blearily opened his eyes, his entire being feeling strange and misplaced, as he struggled through the thick fog of confusion that enveloped him. He tried to sit up, but he felt a hand hold him down flat, as he vaguely took in Tony's dishevelled appearance.

"Steady on, soldier," Tony said firmly, even as he eased Steve to lie back down, "I wouldn't sit up in a hurry if I were in your boots, Spangles."

Steve blinked a few times and tried to take in his surroundings. He looked as if he'd made it back to the hospital, at the very least, and that was when it all came back to him in a hurry. He'd been fighting Acidity when one of their cannons had struck his abdomen. It had knocked him off his feet, and he'd had the worst case of deja vu he'd ever had in his life. It seemed that forces he couldn't explain had a fondness of knocking the wind out of him and hitting him in the gut. Steve made to speak, but his throat was killing him. He wiped at his nose, as an itch got the better of him, and realised it was due to a tube that was up there.

"You were a little worse off than you thought," Tony explained, handing Steve a glass of water, "Despite your creepy healing powers and badass immune system, they had something in their weapons that was preventing you from healing. You lost a lot of blood before they figured out what to do beyond 'keep bandaging him and giving him more blood'."

Steve gulped down his water and held the empty glass out for Tony to top up, which he did so without question.

"They told Fury you 'may or may not make it', and, well," Tony gave a wolfish smile, "You know I love it when Fury gets pissed, so it was a fun time for all involved."

Steve offered a weak smile, before clearing his throat.

"What time is it?" He asked, as Tony shook his head.

"Wrong question. The correct question you should be asking is 'what day is it?'" Tony said airily, "You've been out for four, just if you're wondering."

Steve felt as if this should have jarred him more than it did, but he figured nothing would ever come close to finding out he'd lost seventy years. Instead, he nodded and drank another glass of water.

Tony filled him in on the past few days. The rest of the team had been picked up by SHIELD, and Natasha had been strapped and plastered with the latest medical technology that Stark Industries had to offer. They'd all been declared well enough for duty by the next day. It hadn't taken long for the Acidity captives to crack, spilling as much information as they knew, in exchange for immunity. Fury was yet to have promised anything in regards to that, but they had managed to ascertain that Acidity ran from four compounds globally. Fury had sent the team off for further investigation, and that's when Thor had made his reappearance for the first time since he'd left for Asgard with his brother. They'd taken out a huge base of Acidity's, and were now on the hunt for the remaining three. Even as Tony spoke, the team were on their way to France after following the intelligence given by the captured agents. Something nagged at Steve, however.

"With all due respect, then," Steve said quietly, hand resting on his heavily bandaged side, "Why aren't you with them?"

Tony kept a stoic expression, as Steve handed him an empty water glass, which Tony then proceeded to fill with a flask from his coat pocket.

"I'm sure it's not the first time you've been watched whilst unconscious, Cap."

Tony then took a swig of whatever alcoholic concoction he'd smuggled in, before falling into the chair beside Steve and stretching back.

"On top of that, they've been putting out some kind of electrical interference that messes with the suit. Picked up one of the devices they've been using and figured that since thunder thighs is back on planet earth, I'd take a breather and do some diagnostics for Fury," Tony then feigned a hurt face, "And he's not even paying me extra to do it."

"How will you put food on the table?" Steve teased, and Tony whipped a communicator from his pocket.

"Jarvis, make another note for today. Captain America made a funny and it actually wasn't that bad this time."

Steve gave a small laugh, and immediately regretted it, a burst of pain shooting through his side. He leaned back on his pillows, and Tony had downcast his eyes briefly, slowly putting his communicator back before he met Steve's eyes, scratching his head awkwardly.

"So uh, I'm kinda glad you didn't die and all." serious

"Thanks," Steve said, with real sincerity. That was the closest he'd probably ever get to Tony admitting he was concerned.

"And I mean that," Steve continued, offering a brief nod of the head as he held Tony's gaze, "I don't know what you did after I blacked out, but it was enough to keep me alive."

"It basically involved picking you up and flying you to Fury, but I'll still take full credit for saving your life, sure," Tony nodded, seriousness in his voice. Steve shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. Tony would never be a serious man, after all.

"I better let Fury know you're awake," Tony said, standing up and downing the last dregs of his drink, "Less I end up in your position."

Steve nodded, and Tony gave him a small, over exaggerated salute.

"Good to have you back, Captain Rogers."

Steve gave a small sigh and lay back down. He may as well make an attempt at regular, non-drug induced rest before Tony crashed the peace, as would inevitably be the case.

Steve had a fever. That's what was causing the dreams, he was sure of it. He was usually restless during the night time, haunted by gunfire, by fading faces, by lost time. Instead, he'd been having restless nights of heated encounters with faceless strangers. Ghostly soft brushes of fingertips, of lips, of hands in hair, and of sweat laced skin against sweat laced skin. He'd had dreams like that before, naturally, and usually he found them enjoyable. However, lately, he would wake up jarred and painfully confused, because the new dreams conjured up a sensation he had never experienced before against his skin, and wasn't quite able to place.

It took him two nights of restless sleep before he realised it was facial hair.

Steve was discharged from hospital two days after he woke, and Fury had been pestering him to do some easy tasks, at least until the wound had fully healed. Steve was itching to get back to the battlefield, feeling as if he was wasted talent relaying messages between the team, SHIELD, and the captive agents from Acidity. It kept him busy, however, which was a God send, as his mind had been plagued by his subconscious musings. The less time he spent with Tony, and the more time he spent focusing on a task at hand, the better. The genius had been spending time with Steve as he recovered, and it had had a strange effect on the captain's mind. Steve had been plagued by bizarre daydreams when he was distracted, and they were only worse when he was asleep at night. 

The fever was at least ninety eight percent responsible, but a nagging reminder hit Steve that he had had a dream like... like that... about Tony once before. He felt a little sick at the thought of it. It wasn't natural, it wasn't right, and it was certainly not proper. Besides, Tony was a renowned womaniser, and Steve had lost count of the amount of beautiful girls that Tony had picked up since things had ended with Pepper. Even with all of the business meetings, social events, and general super hero duties, Tony had always found room to bed a woman when the time was right. The time, Steve quickly learnt, was always right when it came to Tony Stark. Besides, Steve reminded himself, he had been so hopelessly besotted with Peggy, and he found women extremely appealing. He'd even caught himself admiring Natasha on occasion.

It wasn't like he found men attractive, either. He could appreciate when a man had a certain aesthetic appeal to them, in a way that he may have been able to admire a piece of artwork, but there was never anything behind it. Tony, he supposed, had that aesthetic appeal to him. He was roguishly and ruggedly handsome, more refined than most, but still had an air of fun around him. But, and this was something Steve often had to remind himself, he was also a cocky, somewhat arrogant, male.

"Earth to Captain Rogers?" A voice came over the speakers, and Steve snapped to it. He'd been so sucked into his concerns about his dreams regarding Tony that he hadn't heard the real one over the communications line.

"Yes, apologies."

"That's the third base down. We're heading back for a debriefing and probably some takeout, if you wanna get that ready. I could kill for Chinese... what?" There was a pause over the line, and Steve realised Tony was talking to someone in the background, "Bruce and Clint are backing that plan, as long as we can get in on some dumplings as well. You in on dumplings Cap?"

"Stark, need I remind you that this line is intended for mission correspondence, and not as a takeout delivery service?" Fury's voice broke over communications.

"Ah, no thanks, no fries with that. Sorry, the line's breaking up."

"You're expected back at the tower for a debriefing no later than seven hours from now," Fury continued, "I'd strongly recommend you don't keep me waiting."

"Yeah, definitely breaking up. Cap, takeout, dumplings, huge responsibility resting on your shoulders right now."

"Would this not be better suited to Happy, or even Jarvis to place the order?" Steve said over the line, not quite able to fully mask his amusement.

"Happy always orders too little, and Jarvis always orders things healthier than I'd like them. Something about cholesterol or something or other."

"Stark, I'll see you in private when you get back," Fury interrupted again.

"Weird, weird, signal dropping out again. It's like there's some kind of crazy interference with our conversation or something," Tony mused, before he stopped talking.

Even Tony knew when to stop pushing Nick Fury's patience.

Tony was sulking as he prodded at his cold takeout, Fury having kept him in the mother of all lectures for over an hour after the team's debriefing. The entire team was seated in the lounge, languidly demolishing a mountain of takeaway as they watched T.V, Clint doing his usual channel flicking until Tony had near developed a twitch. Thankfully, Natasha took the remote off of her fellow SHIELD agent, and had settled on watching 'Ted', which primarily went completely over Steve's and Thor's heads. They eventually settled on old Astro Boy cartoons, during which Tony methodically picked out inconsistencies, until Natasha got sick of that, and changed the channel to a different movie channel. They eventually ended up on Home Alone. Tony had initially complained that it was boring, until Bruce jokingly suggested turning it into a drinking game, and Tony was up and at the liquor cabinet before Bruce could even withdraw the suggestion. He returned with six shot glasses and two bottles of tequila. Natasha shook her head, but she was smiling slightly as she did so. Clint was as keen as Steve had ever seen him, and Thor seemed thoroughly confused by the turn of events.

"What are the tiny glasses for?" He asked, picking one up ad eyeing it wearily, "If a man is to enjoy his drink, should the glass not be larger?"

Tony clucked his tongue and shook his head, starting to pour starter shots for everyone, prying the glass from Thor's grip.

"That's where you're wrong, thunder thighs. This stuff right here," Tony lifted one of the tequila bottles, "Is pure fun in a bottle."

Thor seemed intrigued, and was happy to sit back and watch, as Tony did a quick search of what kind of things they should be taking shots at, before giving a wolfish grin.

"Oh man, this is going to be brutal," he paused, eyes scanning the page, "Okay, so listen to this, you have to take a shot for the following: whenever the kid does something grown up, whenever the bad guys fall for a trap, whenever somebody yells out 'Kevin' and whenever a Christmas Carol plays."

Bruce looked over at him incredulously, and snatched the phone from Tony's grip.

"This sounds like it's been written by an alcoholic just looking for a reason."

"I know. Isn't it fantastic?" Tony remarked, plucking his phone back from Bruce's hands.

Steve shifted awkwardly, not quite sure how much his team mates knew about the super serum's side effects. He wondered briefly if he should tell them he was incapable of becoming intoxicated, when Tony suddenly froze up a little.

"Ah..." He gave an apologetic shrug of the shoulders, seemingly trying to get the okay from Steve to go ahead with this crazy plan.

"I don't mind. I haven't seen this movie, and I'm sure I'll still get some enjoyment from it," Steve nodded, not wanting to be the buzz kill for his team mates' enthusiasm.

"Drink with us, Rogers," Clint smiled, and Steve smiled and politely shook his head.

"He's not a fan of tequila," Tony explained smoothly, heading back to the liquor cabinet and pulling out a bottle of brandy. He dangled it in front of the captain and lowered his voice.

"This is nice and smooth. You'll enjoy it even if you won't get a buzz off of it," He nudged the bottle towards Steve, and the captain took it, offering a silent thank you in the nod he gave. It was another one of those small, unexpected gestures that Tony did from time to time that caught Steve off guard. It was thoughtful, selfless, and it had saved Steve yet another embarrassment for being different. Steve couldn't have been more grateful if he'd tried.

They'd made it forty minutes into the movie before Natasha had passed out, leaning against the coffee table, with the others well on the way. Steve wouldn't lie, he was enjoying this. Not just the raw honesty and cheerful vibes that the entire team was giving off but the playful banter and casual discussion. It had been the first time they'd all been together in a casual environment since their shawarma, and it seemed the presence of alcohol had made it a heck of a lot more comfortable. Tony had been throwing sneaky reasons for additional shots in between their drinking game, but one had really brought the entire time together. Tony had paused the movie, and filled everyone's glasses, raising his own high in the air, a sombre expression on his face as he did so.

"To Phil."

Everyone had drank, then, clinking their glasses together and observing a few moments of silence, before Tony resumed the movie as if nothing had just happened. About five minutes after was when Clint was pulling Natasha's slumped off of the table and laying her down on the couch. Clint was swaying a bit himself, and Steve decided the right thing to do was to probably take both Clint and Natasha to bed.

"You're a machine, Rogers," Clint laughed, slinging an arm around the Captain, who was smiling patiently as he helped Clint to his quarters. He'd been a little concerned with how out of it Natasha really was, and vowed to check up on her before he retired for the night. He rummaged through the cleaning cupboards and left a bucket by each of their beds, with a feeling they'd have a need for them some time through the night. As he got back to the lounge, Bruce and Thor were singing loudly, Thor's arm slung around the scientist as he steered him from the room. Tony wore a thoroughly amused expression, as he sat calmly on the couch, clearly a master in the art of liquor consumption.

Steve sat somewhat awkwardly and took a sip at the brandy in the glass Tony had given him, as the billionaire flicked the TV back to Astro Boy.

"That was... interesting," Steve said conversationally, and Tony raised his brows.

"Slight understatement, Cap."

"Everybody certainly showed a different side."

"That's what alcohol will do," Tony shrugged, taking another shot, "Besides, 'm pretty sure that's what we needed, really. I will bet my left testicle that we perform better as a team after tonight."

Steve shifted awkwardly, the very thought of such a bet uncomfortable to him, and Tony gave a very small snort.

"You're welcome!" Tony held his hands out, a confident smirk along his lips, as he lay and stretched across the sofa, resting his feet on Steve's lap, "It sometimes blows my mind a little, how they thought the future would be."

Tony then gestured at the TV, Steve still coming to terms with his personal space being invaded by Tony's feet. The captain gingerly lowered his arms to rest on Tony's ankles, as Steve nodded.

"We've certainly come a long way," the captain agreed, unable to fight off the frown that tugged at his brows with that thought. He sometimes thought he may never catch up on all he'd missed.

"Hey Steve?" Tony prompted, and there it was again. It was an infrequent occurrence, when Tony Stark called him by name, and each time he did, the tone was soft and honest, and something about that near vulnerability always made sure that Tony had Steve's complete and utter attention, and that bothered the Captain.

"Mm?"

"I'm kind of glad we're not at each other's throats any more either. Makes for a better dynamic."

Steve smiled at the drunken confessions of Tony Stark, and shook his head.

"You're right."

"I usually am." Tony took another shot, nudging Steve in the ribs with his toes as he did so. "But I haven't always been."

"Mistakes are some of the best things that can happen to a person," Steve said in all seriousness, "You don't learn from everything going right for you all the time."

Tony gave a small "hmph" of agreement, and nodded his head, "You sure don't."

The pair sat in silence for some time, waiting until the Astro Boy marathon was over. Steve had gotten about as much of a heart to heart with Tony in those few sentences than he was bound to get for the rest of the night, the genius instead opting to give running commentary on everything that came up on the screen. Steve was enjoying himself, casually resting on Tony's legs and listening to the genius' social commentary, until he found himself drifting off. He knew he should go to bed, but he was comfortable, and he doubted that much could go wrong whilst at home. He closed his eyes, and it didn't take long for them to come.

He was after HYDRA, travelling through the countryside with Bucky at his side. He kept a photo of Peggy on him at all times, and it was one of those small reminders that there was always something or at the very least, someone that was worth fighting for. Steve felt that familiar warmth spread through his chest, before it was quickly snatched away. The scenery changed, and he was on that dark train, the shadows creeping around him, and then... They were everywhere. Enemies everywhere. And Bucky... where was Bucky? He'd found him, but then his hand was reaching, and he just couldn't reach any further. He held Bucky's gaze and he called for him, his heart pounding in his chest, everything aching, and then some of the warmth returned. This time, however, it was settled on his shoulders, and a voice tearing that image away from him.

"Steve."

Steve eyes snapped open with a gasp, and it was Tony. Of course it was Tony. Tony always had that way of showing up just when Steve needed him. Steve hadn't seen Bucky fall. He hadn't lost. He hadn't failed. He'd been pulled away. Rescued.

"Hi there, soldier," Tony said awkwardly, his breath heavy with alcohol, as Steve struggled to get a little composure back. Tony's hands were on his shoulders and he was offering a relatively neutral expression, as if he hadn't just woken Steve from one of the worst memories of his entire life.

"Hello," Steve said just as awkwardly, as he leaned back, running a hand through his hair and letting out a deep breath.

"Bed time?" Tony asked simply, and Steve nodded, "I'll walk you."

The pair walked in relative silence, except for the small chat Tony perpetually seemed to think was necessary, before reaching Steve's room.

"I'm gonna take a quick leak," Tony slurred slightly, ducking into the ensuite before Steve could protest. Steve let out a small sigh and waited his turn. Tony re-emerged with slightly damp hair, as if he'd just run water through it, and slightly brighter eyes.

"You okay?" Steve asked, and Tony waved a hand dismissively.

"Yeah, I'm gonna take a seat just for a minute. Need to take off these shoes. I can't even remember putting them back on," Tony mumbled, as Steve ducked into the ensuite. He relieved himself before brushing his teeth and roughly combing his hair. When he re-emerged, Tony was passed out on his couch, one shoe off, and the other still attached firmly to his foot. Steve shook his head, before heading over and untying the stubborn shoe and taking it off. He put them by the door, and grabbed a blanket, tossing it over Tony and tucking him in, before climbing into his own bed and pulling the covers up to his shoulders, rolling onto his side. For his dignity, should Tony wake up any time soon, Steve slept in sweatpants and a singlet. Jarvis automatically lowered the lighting, and Steve stifled a yawn, before a noise distracted him. He wasn't able to figure out what it was until Tony was slipping under the covers behind him. Steve froze, mortified.

"Tony?"

"Mm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Can't make it to my room. Gonna crash here." Tony's speech was mumbled and slurred, but that was the least of Steve's issues when it came to trying to understand what was happening.

"I can set up a bunk?" Steve prompted, confused, and Tony let out a frustrated groan.

"I am... horrendously drunk right now, Rogers," Tony mumbled, "And all I am asking, one super hero to another, is for a drunk sleepover and maybe some accidental sleep spooning. And then you go and make it all awkward by being... old fashioned and... noble."

"But why...?" Steve asked, and there was silence for a few moments.

"Pepper used to," Tony explained slowly, as if he wasn't particularly fond of confessing to this. It was then that Steve realised this was probably the drunkest Tony had been since he and Pepper had split. It was certainly the drunkest Steve had seen him.

"No funny business," Tony slurred, clapping Steve's shoulder before rolling onto his stomach and burying his arms under the pillows, "Scout's honour."

Steve spent a few moments plotting his logical response as to why Tony was insane, but just as he was about to deliver it, Tony emitted a large snore. Something told Steve he'd lost this battle.

Steve reluctantly closed his eyes, expecting sleep to never come.

It did within minutes, and it was the first time in God knows how long that he slept the entire night through.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I completely forgot about this.   
> Oops. (y)

 

Steve stared at the pan in front of him, his mind turbulent as the bacon crackled before him. He'd woken up feeling more refreshed than he had in only God knows how long, cherishing that small moment of comfort, before realising his housemates were likely not feeling as chipper. He'd stretched and walked to the kitchen, and started preparing a banquet for the lot of them, and it was as he began frying the bacon that his brain had stalled, a realisation sinking in. 

 

His usual morning fogginess had neglected to remind him that Tony Stark had slept in his bed last night. 

 

Steve woke up without him there (he'd somehow expected that would be the case), but it hadn't stopped the case being that Tony had slept in his bed. Whilst Steve was in it. And, strictly coincidentally (as Steve kept telling himself), it had gone hand in hand with the best sleep Steve could ever recall having. Total coincidence of course. 

 

"Staring at it won't make it cook any quicker," A voice interrupted Steve's musings, as the captain looked up to see Bruce amble into the kitchen. Steve said nothing, instead opting to flip the bacon and watch it cook a little more. 

"Something on your mind?" Bruce asked, heading to the cupboard and raiding it for aspirin, before fumbling in the fridge for a drink. Steve recognised a hangover when he saw one, and tossed a stack of bacon onto a waiting plate, holding it out for the very grateful scientist. 

"Strange night," Steve said vaguely, tossing more bacon into the frying pan, as Bruce pulled up a chair at the bench and rested his head in one of his palms, leaning on his elbow. 

"So what did he do?" Bruce asked casually, and Steve felt his cheeks flush, Bruce shrugging matter-of-factly, "Nobody drinks with Tony Stark without some kind of story to tell afterwards." 

 

"I resent that being said in a negative tone."

 

Steve felt his cheeks flush even further, as Tony entered the kitchen, ducking around Bruce's watchful gaze and stealing a bit of bacon, sunglasses perched on his nose as he chewed languidly. 

"Yeesh, lower the lights would you, Jarvis?" He muttered, and then decided to also claim ownership of Bruce's bottle of water. 

"There are no lights currently on, sir, unless you're asking me to dim the sun?" The AI replied drily, as Tony slammed back the bottle, Bruce looking on with his same frown of patient annoyance. 

"I bunked with the Cap, as for some reason unbeknownst to me, I could not make it to my own quarters," Tony said airily, waving another strip of bacon around, "One of those mysteries of life."

Bruce didn't seem the slightest bit perturbed by this, and Steve relaxed a little. Maybe he had been looking too far into it, for no reason other than sheer paranoia. He piled some bacon on a second plate and placed it in front of Tony, scraping a few strips off of the billionaire's plate and onto Bruce's. 

 

"Either way, maybe stick to your own quarters next time," Steve muttered, chancing a glance up at Tony, and the billionaire lowered his shades just in time to meet the Captain's gaze full on.

"Not as fun. Besides, you're super cuddly," Tony offered a lazy smirk, and Steve frowned, bristling slightly. He was about to kick up a retort, before Tony's attention was ripped from Steve when Bruce tapped him on the nose with a particularly crisp piece of bacon. 

"I can't handle you two bickering. Not today. Not this early," Bruce said simply, not even bothering to look up from the paper he'd collected from the table. Tony wrinkled his nose and offered a stony stare in Bruce's direction, before plucking the bacon from his tormentor's finger tips and chewing it as noisily as he could. Bruce, still not looking up from the paper, quirked a brow, and Tony took this as his queue to leave. 

"Thanks for the grub. You'll make one hell of a wife someday," Tony clapped Steve on the shoulder in appreciation, before heading back out of the room as quickly as he had whirled into it. 

 

Steve remained silent, cooking more bacon as he heard the unmistakable sound of Thor thumping around upstairs. 

 

Steve hadn't been able to fight with his team, but he'd been pleased to find himself of some kind of use domestically, managing to operate the kitchen appliances without Jarvis' aid after a few attempts. Steve had gotten better at most things around the house, and was even adjusting to the modern world as it was now. Many things still confused him, but he was adapting quicker than even he would have thought possible. Some things, however, still stuck as fast as they did when they first pulled him back onto the field.

 

"You're stomping almost as much as our Asgardian friend," Bruce remarked, finally looking up from his paper and catching Steve mid scowl. Steve almost made to hide it, before he gave out a frustrated sigh in defeat. Surely Bruce wouldn't be prompting for some kind of response if he didn't want to hear Steve let off a little steam?

"Does he become any easier to understand?" 

Bruce chuckled very briefly at this, not asking for further explanation. 

"To an extent. Once you 'get' one aspect of him, you kind of 'get' the whole package," Bruce shrugged, lowering his paper, "He's a very interesting character, but he's not a bad one."

Steve turned back to the bacon briefly, stabbing it angrily with the egg flipper, before rounding back on Bruce. 

"I don't appreciate him condescending me," Steve said, "I wonder if we're on the same team at times."

"If you weren't, he'd not have volunteered to keep watch over you after your little accident," Bruce spoke softly, calmly, and Steve found himself lulled slightly by the man's demeanour.

 

That is, until confusion shot through him. 

 

"Volunteered?" He prompted, "Stark said he'd been ordered to stay back, because of some issues with the suit."

Bruce's eyebrows rose just slightly at this, before returning to normal.

"Maybe for the first couple of days, but not after that, no," Bruce let a slow smile creep along his face, "But of course he'd not admit to that. Heaven forbid you knew he actually has a heart and all those glowy lights aren't just for show."

Not for the first time, Steve felt a bubble of guilt swell up with how bristled he was towards Tony a majority of the time they were together. No matter what facade Tony put up, at the very base of it all, he was a good man. He just didn't like people knowing that, and Steve was determined to figure out why. 

 

The rest of the team filtered in and out throughout the morning, taking greasy morsels with them as they did so, each nursing a hangover, and in Thor's and Bruce's case, several stories. The pair had gone out drinking into the early hours of the morning, with the resolution to continue bar hopping until one of them passed out. Bruce had been the first to hit the deck at a nightclub downtown, and Thor had carried him home slung over his shoulder. 

"He drinks like a true Asgardian!" Thor beamed, clapping Bruce over the shoulder with apparent fondness, even as Bruce wobbled on his stool at the bench and offered a somewhat embarrassed smile. 

 

Once everyone had eaten and Bruce had politely excused himself to go to his lab, Steve nodded determinedly and headed for Tony's workshop. He'd stood awkwardly at the door and cleared his throat, before Jarvis had addressed him. 

"Mister Stark is currently working on a project, Captain. Would you like me to pass on a message?" 

"Uh... yes," Steve nodded, slightly uncomfortable with leaving messages for Tony with a robot, "Just uh, let him know that I know he volunteered. That is, that it wasn't just the suit that kept him back and I just wanted-"

Steve ran a hand through his hair and struggled for the words.

 

It shouldn't have been that difficult, realistically. He'd come to thank the man, and that was what he ought to do. Yet, it didn't seem enough. A part of Steve wondered then if it ever would. 

"I wanted to thank him."

There was a brief pause then, and just as Steve turned to leave, the door slid open. He hesitated, before awkwardly walking through the doorway. He looked around briefly, and spotted Tony's legs sticking out from beneath a car, as Dummy whistled around with a spanner. Steve could hear the billionaire cursing under his breath as Dummy lowered his mechanical arm and handed him said spanner, before it was immediately placed back in the robot's grip. 

 

"I know they say size doesn't matter," Tony sighed, "But sometimes it really does. Strike two, Dummy. I need the next size up. Strike three and you're an exhibit at some elementary school science fair."

Dummy dipped his arm and made a low whistle, seemingly defeated. Steve held out a hand and Dummy perked up, handing the tool over, as Steve silently moved to the nearest toolbox and grabbed the spanner Tony was after. Steve stooped and held the spanner out, as Tony took it from his grasp. 

 

"Hallelujah. Dummy survives another day," he muttered, amused affection clear in his tone.

"I suppose I've been called worse," Steve said drily, as Tony jumped, a loud 'clunk' and a hissed expletive indicating that he had injured himself in the process. He then wheeled himself out from under the vehicle, an eye clenched closed, a mixture of grease and now blood at risk of falling into his eye. 

"Shit, Rogers, you're like a freaking ghost," He scowled, as Steve grabbed a clean cloth nearby and handed it over. 

"I hadn't meant to startle you. I apologise," Steve said sincerely, as Tony wiped the grime and blood from his face, dabbing at the newly formed cut, "You should probably clean that."

"Well as of about a minute ago, the grease was the worst of my concerns," He said drily, with a heavily emphasised sigh, "I suppose that's it for now."

 

Tony stood then, and moved to one of the sinks along the wall, washing his hands and then roughly scrubbing at his face. 

"Will I live?" He said melodramatically, as Steve bit back a sigh, inspecting the wound. He reached out and gently pressed a finger beside the wound, seeing if the skin had shifted enough for stitches, and Tony winced noticeably.

"Unfortunately so, yes," Steve offered drily, and Tony waved him away with a 'pssh'. 

"So apart from providing the sadistic glee you get from injuring me, what else can I do for you?"

Steve took a moment to look around the workshop, delaying the inevitable. He had always believed he should give thanks when thanks were due; it was how he was raised. However, he had never been all that good at dealing with Tony overall, as his track record would clearly display, should he create one for all of their encounters. 

 

Steve let his eyes roam their surroundings. He was always impressed with the things that Tony was seemingly able to procure out of thin air, and he took a moment to appreciate that Tony had seemingly been working on upgrades to the Iron Man suit, as well as general tinkering with his vehicles. There were also other bits and pieces scattered around the workshop; weapons with the SHIELD logo, outfits that looked familiar and yet strangely different all at the same time. There was also an assortment of... shields. Different shapes, different sizes, different materials. It was all so oddly familiar that Steve felt a lump rise in his throat. 

 

"What's all... this?" Steve asked, gesturing at the various bits and pieces. 

"Just trialling a few different things for the team," Tony shrugged nonchalantly, "But trust me, I'm well aware you're sticking to your shield, gramps."

"When I first started getting into the swing of battle, really becoming... Captain America... Your father," Steve began, but stopped immediately. He sometimes forgot it was not wise to mention Howard Stark in Tony's presence. Tony, however, was watching Steve curiously. 

"Nono, please, finish," He said, no anger or bitterness along his features. Steve hesitated, but Tony wasn't budging, so he pressed on. 

"Howard, he had a few prototypes just like this. We were tucked away in a secluded base, and he had them laid out on a bench, kind of like this. I pretty much ignored every one of them that he showed me, and went straight for the rounded one. He wasn't overly..." Steve paused, offering a small, nostalgic smile, "He wasn't thrilled, but it did what it was meant to do."

 

Tony crossed his arms across his chest and leant back against the bench, one corner of his lips licking up into a half smile, as he offered a small 'hmph'. Steve offered a puzzled expression, and Tony held his gaze as he spoke. 

"It's nice to hear those kinds of stories."

"About... your father?"

"About you," Tony said in all seriousness, "The stories that make you get that starry eyed nostalgia look about you, not the look as if you're chasing ghosts."

It was silent for a few moments, as Steve let the statement sink in with an awkward sense of truth, turning away from Tony as he did so. 

"Sometimes it feels like that's all I do," Steve admitted quietly. 

"Then don't."

Steve turned back to meet Tony's gaze, and the billionaire shrugged, gaze not wavering. 

"I've seen the way you can instil confidence in others, Spangles. Maybe you need to start working some of that magic on yourself."

Steve furrowed his brows slightly, another habit he seemed to have developed whenever Tony was around.

"Let me ask you something, one on one," Tony began, and Steve forced his gaze to continue holding the man's before him. Tony had that determined fire burning in his eyes, the one he got when he was really focused, or close to discovering something new in a project, and that on its own made Steve dread whatever question Stark was about to throw at him. Tony was a hard man to lie to. 

"Do you ever think about the good shit? Reflect on it in a positive way? Share it with people?" Tony asked, and Steve felt his heart sink a little, "Cause in this day and age there's no harm in sharing parts of your life with a friend. Not sure if it was like that back in the day, but it's pretty widely accepted now."

"Right, a friend..." 

So, even with everything that Tony had said and done, he really did consider Steve a friend. Steve felt a little constricted all of a sudden. In the here and now, in the world that Steve had been brought into; he knew he had partnerships, a brotherhood, teammates, but he had never been sure if he could be called someone's friend. 

 

Steve opened his mouth, but Tony gave an amused smirk and shook his head. 

"I already know the answer," He said matter-of-factly, wiping more grease off of his hands and face and heading for the door, "We'll head out in fifteen. I'll need a shower."

Steve blinked, not bothering to hide his puzzlement.

"What? Where are we going?" He asked, following Tony as his teammate left the workshop. 

"I could kill for a cheeseburger. You do eat cheeseburgers, right?" Tony asked, "Otherwise I'm not sure this whole friendship thing is going to work out for me. Jarvis, have the Jag ready to go. Do not let Dummy touch the tires this time."

"Yes, sir," Jarvis drawled, "Shall I notify Director Fury of your intentions?" 

"Jarvis, I thought I raised you smarter than that," Tony feigned shock, and the AI gave no response. Steve sometimes wondered if this was something that Jarvis had learnt to do when working for Tony, or whether it had been programmed in. Regardless, he could almost imagine the AI rolling its eyes. 

 

He could often relate.

 

* * *

  
  


Tony was being exactly the kind of friend that Steve hadn't realised he needed until it was placed right in front of him. They casually ate their burgers, (or as casually as they could with the attention they were attracting from the other restaurant patrons) and Tony chattered away, occasionally pausing to wipe ketchup from his goatee, or letting Steve have his two cents. Every now and then, Tony would say something mildly insulting or derogatory, and Steve would give him a brief, disapproving frown. Rather than it being a mood spoiler, however, it had somehow become an almost familiar, comforting gesture between the pair. Tony sometimes stepped over the line and seemed to appreciate someone pulling him back in. Steve would sometimes miss the reference, and Tony seemed to have no problem with filling him in. It was becoming a learning experience for the both of them. 

 

Tony didn't push too hard for information, but Steve found that the more he relaxed in Tony's company, the less his team mate had to push. He found that casual conversation was something he'd neglected to indulge in for far too long, and truthfully, it had been a long time since he'd felt confident enough to do so. The world had changed so much that, despite his best efforts, Steve often felt on edge. He never really knew what to expect from his surroundings. Yet, with Tony, with having a friend, things felt a little more familiar. There was a little more stability, and it put Steve's mind a tad more at ease. 

"So what did you used to do to kill some time before becoming a full time super hero?" Tony asked, just after swallowing an impossibly large bite of his burger, "The usual old timey stuff? Whacking hoops with sticks?"

 

Steve allowed himself a small smile at this. Sometimes, Tony really didn't get it. 

 

"Listened to the radio, would catch the newsreels at the cinema, catch a film, catch a ball game, head to the fair or what not," Steve shrugged, picking a handful of fries off of his plate, "The usual kinds of things."

"Yeah?" Tony seemed intrigued, also taking a handful of fries from Steve's plate as the captain frowned disapprovingly.

"You seem surprised."

"I pinned you as the type to casually stroll through museums or art galleries, maybe host dinner parties, or sit around with a few friends and discuss some riveting political stuff," Tony said, a teasing glint in his eyes, "I didn't think it would be, you know..."

"Wouldn't be what?" Steve pressed, and the billionaire gave a lazy grin. 

"I don't want to drop the F bomb in polite company, Steve, but it sounds like you were kind of... fun."

 

Steve rolled his eyes and finished the remains of his burger, before choosing to even justify that remark with a response. He opened his mouth to speak, but just as he did so, Tony's phone began ringing shrilly. It was Tony's turn to roll his eyes at this, briefly pulling his phone from his pocket, checking the screen, and shoving it back into his pants to continue ringing. Steve raised a questioning brow and Tony stretched languidly, placing his hands behind his head as he did so. 

"Fury," He said by way of explanation, and Steve floundered briefly.

"Tony," He began, not managing to mask the frustration in his voice fully. 

"If it's important, he'll leave a voicemail," Tony shrugged, just as Steve's own phone began ringing shrilly, "Or, you know, call you immediately after. There's that, too."

 

Steve pulled the phone from his pocket and confirmed that it was indeed Nick Fury's name on the screen, before pressing the answer button and awkwardly holding the device to his ear. He still hadn't quite adjusted to portable phones. 

"Director Fury?" Steve prompted. 

“Captain. I take it Mister Stark is with you?” 

Steve watched as Tony picked at the last of the captain’s fries, the billionaire leaning on an elbow casually and shaking his head, mouthing ‘I’m not here’. 

“Yes, he’s here.” 

Steve bit back a smirk, as Tony slumped on the table and let out a frustrated groan. 

“We need you both back at the tower. I’ll brief the both of you when you get here.”

“Yes sir.”

“And Captain?”

“Yes sir?”

“Don’t let Stark stall for time.”

Steve smiled, as Fury hung up the phone, and Tony raised his head from the table’s surface to glower in his direction. 

 

“You’re a terrible human being,” Tony said simply, standing and pulling out his wallet as he did so. Steve stood after him, watching as the restaurant staff beamed at the playboy, who was throwing the charm on full force at one of the waitresses. He slipped her a twenty dollar bill as a tip, and she blushed furiously as Tony winked, before paying for their bill and leaving. 

“Does that always work?” Steve asked curiously, referring to Tony’s near blinding charm. 

“Almost.”

“How is it that easy for you?” Steve let out a small laugh, “I had issues even offering a girl a treat, let alone getting them to fawn over me like that.”

Tony frowned very briefly, and if Steve hadn’t been watching him whilst waiting for an answer, he’d have missed it completely. 

“It’s not always easy. Some people are harder to win over than others.” Tony opened the car door and let himself in, Steve sitting beside him on the passenger side.

“You’ll have to give me a few tips sometime,” Steve chanced a cheeky smile, sensing something about Tony’s mood had changed and hoping to maybe perk his newly found friend up. Tony’s eyes widened briefly as he met Steve’s gaze, before turning forward as he started the car. He gave a small laugh then, and shook his head.

“Captain America asking me for advice on getting the ladies. Unbelievable.”

 

Steve ran a hand through his hair, smiling awkwardly, his cheek flushing slightly. He had noticed that ever since the serum, girls’ attentions hadn’t been anywhere near as difficult to snare. Tony possibly had a point. 

“See?” Tony said, as they drove in the direction of the tower, his eyes flicking to Steve a few times as he spoke, “You have plenty of charm, you just don’t realise you’re flashing it. Girls go crazy for that kind of thing. The awkward, attractive, nice guy kind of thing. I could never pull it off.”

“Maybe you’re not trying hard enough?” Steve jokingly suggested, and Tony nodded. 

“Probably.”

As Tony drummed his fingers aimlessly against the steering wheel and hummed to the beat of whatever song was on the radio, Steve decided it was probably best to leave the conversation there, before either of them embarrassed themselves further.    
  


* * *

  
  


They'd packed their bags as soon as Fury had finished his briefing, and they were off for a second attempt at making it to the outback of Australia. Despite Tony's best arguments, Fury had won this round, and they flew by a cloaked SHIELD aircraft. When he hadn't been sleeping, Tony had complained throughout the entire flight over. Thankfully, they'd landed and managed to make it to a secluded base that SHIELD had set up in an old mining town without a single issue. Fury had given them a local SHIELD agent as a guide of sorts, to ensure they were as aware of their surroundings as was necessary, and she had explained that most houses, let alone their base, were kept underground to avoid the harsh heat. Steve found the idea of staying underground a little bizarre and somewhat claustrophobic, and Bruce wasn't handling the idea too much better. 

"Cause this can only end well..." Bruce had said under his breath, as they placed their bags on the available bunks. 

 

"Says here it's an old mining town. For opals, of all things," Tony seemed slightly amused as he read over a brochure he'd picked up at the gas station just outside of town. 

"Coober Pedy is the opal mining capital of the world, sir," Their assigned SHIELD agent chipped in with her heavily laced Australian accent, and Tony leered at her openly. Steve had noticed that Tony had taken an interest in the young agent, and had made no effort to hide that fact each time she spoke to him. 

"Well, how ‘bout that?" He offered a lazy smile and an intense gaze, causing the agent to blush slightly, and Bruce tugged on the back of Tony's collar. 

"Down, boy," The doctor muttered, dragging Tony outside, discussing various minerals that may be readily available in their new environment. Steve shook his head and apologised to their guide, before moving further into their living quarters. It was decidedly cooler inside than it was outside, and Steve began to understand the merit of underground housing in such harsh conditions.

 

"I would kill for a beer right now," Clint muttered, lounged out on his chosen bunk, as Natasha let out a huff of air on the one above him. The change of seasons within the space of a plane trip had thrown them all a little, but the SHIELD agents seemed to have taken it the hardest. 

"For the love of Odin, what beast affronts me?!" Steve heard a bellow from a little further within the base, and both he and Clint were up and running without a second thought. Within a few moments, they had located Thor, backed up against a wall and staring at the one opposite him. Clint snorted, and Steve bit back a smile of his own. 

"It's a spider, Thor," Steve said as calmly as he could muster, with the demigod looking as childishly fear struck as he was. 

"I have seen spiders before, my friend, but that!" Thor gestured at the offending arachnid with his hammer, "That is no spider. That is a beast spawned from Hel itself!"

Their SHIELD guide approached the situation and gave a small shudder at the CD sized creature, before offering a calm smile. 

 

"That's a Huntsman, sir. They're harmless, despite appearances," She explained, "They only really bite when provoked, and even then, they're not poisonous."

"Remove it from my quarters!" Thor cried, and Clint quirked a brow, rolling up the town map he had been fanning himself with, and swatting the spider with a brutal efficiency. The Huntsman died near instantly, and curled up as it hit the ground. Thor cautiously stepped from the wall he had pressed himself against and looked down at the carcass, offering a small, almost victorious smile. 

"You'd have thought with everything you’ve fought back in Asgard, you'd be okay with a little spider," Clint said drily, brow still quirked, and Thor pointed at him with his hammer.

"I have spent my childhood learning of the beasts of Asgard and fighting them at will. I know them better than some of my own people," Thor then pointed Mjolnir at the dead spider and narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "But these- These men of hunting? There was never any word spoken of such... beasts."

Clint and Steve exchanged amused yet patient looks with each other, before Clint clapped Thor on the shoulder and shook him a little. 

"You'll be alright, big guy," Clint reassured, before heading back to his own bunk. Steve heard Natasha's burst of laughter shortly after, and assumed Clint had informed her of what had occurred. 

 

Thor gave him a sheepish smile, and Steve also clapped the god on the shoulder, before Thor eased himself to sit on his own bunk, still visibly rattled. 

 

Between Tony's constant flirting with their guide, the near unbearable heat, and Thor's newly discovered arachnophobia, Steve had a feeling this would be the longest mission of his life.

 

* * *

  
  


Acidity was close. The team had been travelling through the outback terrain for over two hours in the vehicles provided with Tony scouting overhead, and Steve had been thoroughly impressed to see that Tony had indeed done a fantastic job with modifying the suit, as it now had a similar cloaking method to SHIELD's. The only way he knew where Tony was, was by the faint vapour trails coming out from behind him, and the commentary coming through his earpiece. 

"Just coming over this ridge, something's a little off about that mine entrance. Looks like the ground outside one of the entrances has been disturbed recently."

"Any other signs of life?" Steve asked, and there was a brief pause before Tony spoke again. 

"Looks like there might be some people coming up out of one of the shafts. Not sure if they've noticed me y-"

 

The team was on sudden alert then, as a crackle rippled across the comms. line and Tony fell silent, the unmistakable sound of gunfire ringing through the air. 

 

"Tony?" Steve urged. Clint floored it then, and they all but vaulted over the ridge that they'd been steadily climbing. Steve scanned the sky for vapour trails, but couldn't see any, and he felt his chest constrict oddly. 

"Tony!" He barked, before there was a brief crackle. 

"Sorry, just, you know... trying to survive. Yeah, they definitely know we're here."

Steve let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, and watched as the individuals coming up the mineshaft continued to fire shots into the sky. 

"Shit."

It was on that expletive that Steve saw Tony's cloaking drop, and the Iron Man suit spin a little recklessly through the air. 

"We need to get in there," Steve said firmly, as Clint stopped the car, the team clambering out and heading for the battle. 

 

Bruce hulked almost immediately, and Thor was up and in the skies within moments, the heavens darkening with a frightening speed. Steve raised his shield as a stray blast from Tony was deflected by one of the Acidity agents, shortly followed by a blast that was aimed directly for him from one of their own weapons. He pressed forward and threw his shield, knocking out the nearest offender and having it rebound back to him in a heartbeat. 

 

Steve felt unsettled. 

 

The Avengers were a force to be reckoned with right now and yet they were up against seemingly regular men. He wasn't sure what they were meant to be expecting. SHIELD always had their secrets, and he entertained the fact that if they really were needed here, then the worst was yet to come. He'd yet to see any further proof of just how Acidity were making SHIELD agents just up and disappear, and certainly hadn't come across anything too out of the ordinary, aside from their blast guns. 

 

"You ever think these guys are a little... tame?" Tony queried, as the Iron Man suit fired off a few missiles, the following explosion almost knocking Steve off his feet. He stood upright just as Tony landed, the billionaire playing a now familiar card of aiming his lasers at Steve's shield. The captain then turned it, using it as a reflecting device and disabling several more enemies, before Steve threw his shield to knock out an attacker just behind Tony, and Tony fired a few shots from his shoulders to do the same for Steve. The pair of them paused briefly, almost surprised with their teamwork, as Steve buzzed with adrenaline. 

"Thanks," He threw a quick smile Tony's way, before Iron Man gave a salute and took to the skies once more. 

 

The entire team was moving like clockwork, attacks co-ordinated and fluid, working together to knock down what seemed to be a continuing stream of enemy soldiers. As well as that, Acidity seemed to have a special force made up of attacking vehicles that were swarming from nowhere, along with an aerial force. Steve's stomach sank a little as he recognised one of the aircraft as being similar to the one that ripped Tony's from the air, and it seemed Tony recognised this fact as well, as he made a beeline directly for it. 

"Tony, don't do anything stupid," Steve warned, and he didn't find the billionaire's snorted reply to be very reassuring. Steve watched as Tony fired several rockets at the aircraft, before completely disabling his thrusters. Steve's breath caught in his throat as he watched his team mate free fall from the sky. 

 

"Tony, are you crazy?!" Steve heard Natasha through their communications line, though he couldn't see her amidst the chaos. The rockets Tony had fired then hit their mark, and a shockwave rippled through the air. Tony had just managed to fall out of its reach, largely thanks to his lack of thrust, before he kicked them back in and shot off into the air once more. Steve let out another held breath and realised then and there that there was no doubt in his mind; Tony Stark would be the death of him. 

 

Tony managed to bring two aircraft down with that particular stunt, and the hulk demolished the land vehicle forces with little difficulty and large amounts of enthusiasm. Thor wiped out the remaining aircraft whilst he was at it, although Tony was the first to realise that some of them were actually lightning proof. Acidity had thought ahead. Steve slugged on, side by side with Clint and Natasha, as the three of them took out the other forces on foot. The captain was reminded of standing atop an anthill; no matter how many soldiers they took out, they kept on coming. Even after Tony had destroyed the initial mine entrance they'd discovered, the soldiers kept on rushing over the hills, and they seemed to be getting progressively stronger. Steve's thoughts were interrupted then, as the ground gave a violent rumble and shake, and the Avengers threw alarmed expressions to one another, the hulk letting out a roar of confusion. 

"Collapsing mineshafts?" Clint asked, firing an arrow into an approaching soldier, as Tony let out an expletive from above them. 

 

"What in the name of Odin..?" Thor's voice also came over communications, as Steve felt his heart rate quicken. This was the finale, whatever this was. 

"What's going on, Stark?" Natasha prompted, firing shots into the throng of attackers from a gun she had snared. 

"Can't tell you that with complete confidence, Agent Romanov," Tony said distantly, and that on its own raised concern within the team, "But it's big and it is not happy to see us."

"Fantastic," Clint said drily, "That is always a reassuring thing to hear." 

A deafening roar rang out then, as not only the Avengers, but also their enemies were momentarily paralysed, covering their ears. Steve turned to where the noise had come from, and watched on in horror as a shadow fell across them. 

 

The beast must have been at least fifteen stories tall, almost dog like in appearance, but with a large set of ram-like horns atop its head. 

"What... the fuck... is that?" Clint faltered, as the beast's claws curled around the ledge, Steve's mind jolting just enough for cognitive thought to filter through. 

"It's gonna jump!" He warned, as he made a mad dash for it. Clint had been frozen stiff, and Natasha had faltered, contemplating turning back for him, before Steve pulled her away.

 

They managed to dive roll just as the beast landed on the level terrain, letting out another deafening roar. Steve looked back, just in time to see Tony swoop in and pull Clint out of the way of one of the beast's giant paws, the pair of them landing and rolling along the sand beside Steve, Clint seemingly slightly winded. Tony flicked his helmet up, and Steve saw something he couldn't recall ever seeing on Tony's face. 

 

Fear. 

 

Tony met his gaze then, and Steve realised he must have had the same expression, cause Tony gave him a reassuring nod. Steve returned it, before pulling himself up and picking his shield up from the sand. Most of the ground forces had been depleted, finally, and Steve took some small relief from this. They would need all they had to bring the... whatever it was... down. 

"I'm getting way too old for this shit," Tony murmured, before standing and flicking his mask down. Natasha and Clint stood as well, seemingly waiting for Steve's word. 

"I'll need you to scout for me, Tony," Steve nodded in Tony's direction, who gave an understanding nod, "I want to know if it seems to have any vulnerabilities, I want to know size, I want to know surroundings, I want to know anything you can get from it."

"Yes Cap'n. You wanna give me a power boost, pikachu?"

 

Whether or not Thor understood the reference, because Steve sure as hell didn't, he caught the 'power boost' part of it and sent a few thousand volts straight for Tony. The billionaire stumbled slightly, before straightening and making a gesture of cracking his fingers in the suit. 

"Let's play."

With that, Tony was off, leaving Steve to turn to the others. He didn't even get a chance to open his mouth before the hulk was off and running, and he supposed that not knowing the current situation quite that well enough, there was little else Steve would have told him to do anyway. 

 

"Hawkeye, how sharp are those eyes of yours?" Steve asked, and Clint merely gave a lopsided smirk in response. Steve nodded, pointing at a ridge behind them. 

"I want you up there, and I want you firing at the last straggling foot soldiers. We'll need backup as we go for the big guy."

Clint nodded, flexing his bow and taking off at a sprint. Thor landed beside him then, blood lusted and battle ready, a decidedly keen expression plastered on his face. 

"If you can, I want you on top of it. Close combat, see if it can handle a little stormy weather. If not, Mjolnir can do some close quarter damage."

Thor said nothing, spinning his hammer and becoming airborne once more. Natasha merely nodded at Steve, picking up a discarded energy gun from one of their slain enemies and pulled the trigger to fire a test shot. 

"This'll work."

"Good," Steve nodded, adjusting his mask and slipping his shield back over his arm as he picked up a weapon of his own, "We're gonna need it to."

 

They ran, as Tony flew over the top of them, his lasers providing a decidedly tougher kick than usual thanks to Thor's boost. Steve barely registered any of the foot soldiers coming towards them, as many fell before they even reached the captain, arrows jutting from various places. As for any of the remainders that Clint couldn't get to, Natasha was blasting them away with practiced ease, even as the beast rattled the ground beneath them in its thrashing attempts to remove the demigod from its body. The hulk had gone straight for the throat of the beast, and through whatever means, had seemingly managed to disable its vocal chords, the beast now failing to produce any of its deafening roars. 

"It's got spines along its tail, but it seems to be keeping it away for the time being," Tony commented, "Although I'd still watch those claws, Spangles. It's also scaly up top. Like a... lizard?"

 

The beast snapped its jaws then, spittle flying from its mouth. A glob landed on the captain's suit, which then bubbled slightly in return, burning away mere seconds later, leaving his skin feeling slightly tender. Natasha, ever observant, hadn't missed this and dodged the next bit of spittle to come their way.

"It's got acidic saliva!" Natasha relayed to the rest of the team, as Steve purposely tore the affected fabric from his skin. 

 

"Acidity..." He murmured, shaking his head. There was more to this than they knew, he was sure of it. He threw his shield to attract the beast's attention, which he gained momentarily, the shield striking it in the kneecaps as it made a swipe at the captain. He only just managed to dodge the claw, landing on the sand beneath it, as it made to step on him. He rolled just in the nick of time, as Tony muttered a curse over the communications. 

"Careful, Cap," Clint chipped in, the whole team seemingly aware of the near miss, "On the plus side, looks like ground forces are down, bar the ones near you guys."

"Is it possible they may have sought refuge beneath the surface?" Thor asked, as Tony shot straight upwards and hovered for a few moments. 

 

"Doing a life scan here, and unless they are really deep, there are only a handful left, and they seem to have some kind of power over the beasty."

"Elaborate," Steve said firmly, as he fired a few shots from the laser gun into the beast's underbelly. 

"Hey Tweety, base of the beast, rear legs. Can you get a shot?" 

"Not from this range. Not without risking Tash or Steve," Clint replied, a morbid tone licking at his voice, 

"Collateral damage?" Tony teased, and Natasha gave him a few choice words, "Alright, I'm on it." 

 

Steve watched as Tony flitted down and through the beast's legs, a few minor explosions following shortly after, before a "Whoa!" came over the line, the Iron Man suit spluttering as Tony re-emerged, a thin trail of smoke following behind him. 

"You alright there, Tinman?" Clint asked, an arrow soaring over Steve's head in the process, and striking the beast in the knee. There was silence for a minute or so, save the sounds of battle, before Tony finally responded. 

"Took a hit. Jarvis is running a scan. Doesn't look too awful."

"How much damage can that suit handle?" Steve asked, realising that it was far from the first strike that Tony had taken that day. 

"Enough. Hopefully."

"That's not reassuring."

"Well I have had the living shit beaten out of me by a demigod in the past. I think I'll survive."

 

Steve smirked in spite of himself, and he saw Natasha do the same, before she dive rolled away from the beast's paw, narrowly missing being caught by its claws. She was tiring and slowing from the fatigue, and the more Steve was dodging and ducking, throwing his shield when possible, the more he felt the strain as well. They hadn't met such a challenge since the Chitauri, and there was only so much they could take as mere mortals. 

 

There was another deafening roar at that moment, and Steve was puzzled momentarily, until he realised it had been the hulk himself who had issued it, before being flung from the beast, a large wound now across his skin. Steve couldn't ever recall seeing the hulk take any damage, and unless he was mistaken, the green figure was now unconscious and quickly beginning to shrink down. 

"Clint!" he barked over the earpiece, "Get him out of here!" 

Steve attracted the beast's attention once more, with a few well aimed shots to the beast's mouth, saliva falling around them, and once again catching some of Steve's outfit. The captain was basically shirtless by this point, but there was no time for modesty. 

 

Steve stole the beast's attention from Bruce's position as Clint grabbed the man and flung the scientist over his shoulder, heading to the vehicle provided for them by SHIELD, Steve presumed. Natasha took a hit then, not quite able to dodge the beast's claw as it swiped for Steve, a gash forming along her abdomen. Tony was on her before Steve could say a word, flying her to join Bruce as Steve heard Tony calling in SHIELD. They could do this, Steve knew. Thor still had enough energy to continue his assaults from above, and there was enough power remaining in the Iron Man suit to do enough firepower to bring it down. The beast was already bleeding heavily from its body, its steps slightly more staggered as it moved, and Steve could see it was tiring fast. 

 

"Tony we need you," He urged over the communications, diving several more times as the beast continued its attacks. 

"It's weak," Tony observed, "I think I know what'll bring it down, but I'm gonna need another boost."

"Don't be reckless," Steve urged, his breath slightly laboured, as he only narrowly missed another swipe of the beast's paw. Tony headed up to land on the beast's back, and Steve heard him ask Thor for a jump start, before lightning flared from the sky once more.

"Not sure this is gonna work, but I'd move back if I were you, Goldilocks," Tony said firmly, and to Steve's surprise, Thor listened without question, using Mjolnir to fly and land beside Steve, now attacking the beast's knees. 

 

"Tony...?" Steve pressed, as he heard a large humming noise ringing through the air, before a blast rang out, a shockwave rippling across them as it did so. There was a brief pause, the beast staggering slightly, seemingly momentarily surprised, before it swayed and fell to one side, Tony rolling off of it and landing in a heap by its rear legs. Steve tried to absorb what had happened, before he saw a gush of green blood rush from a large hole in the monster's chest. Tony had blasted a hole clean through the monster's body, covering himself in monster blood in the process. 

"Ugh... gross. There aren't enough showers in the world to get rid of this stink."

Steve had never been more relieved to hear Tony complaining in his entire life. 

 

His heart had near stopped when that blast rang out, and he had gotten bad deja vu of watching Tony doing something completely reckless and entirely selfless, and not being sure if the playboy would come out of it alive . He'd had that sinking feeling for the second time since meeting the man, that he had lost Tony Stark, and he realised very suddenly that he hated the thought. That no matter what Tony was to him, Steve needed him around. That thought both soothed and terrified him in a confusing clash of emotions, but he wasn't going to think too hard on that now. 

 

"We've tolerated your stench before, I'm sure we can do so again," Steve teased, relief sweeping through him. It was short lived, however, as he saw the beast's tail rise in one final act before its demise. 

"Tony!" He called out in an attempt at warning, but it was too late. The spines along the beast's tail exploded, sending them scattering everywhere, and Steve froze, watching with increasing horror as Tony's back arched just slightly, one of the spines piercing directly through the suit and pinning him to the red soil and sand beneath him. Thor had taken a hit too, but to the shoulder, and was already working on easing the spine out when Steve ran to Tony's side. 

 

He dropped to the ground beside him, hands trembling, as he reached out and took the mask from Tony's face, tossing it aside. His heart sank with deja vu all over again, but this time, Tony was conscious. 

"Son of a... bitch..." Tony groaned, his eyes clenching shut as he attempted to reach and pull out the spine. 

"Don't," Steve said firmly, swatting Tony's hand away from his abdomen and applying pressure to the wound. Tony choked slightly, coughing, and Steve felt his veins turn to ice, as the gesture brought blood to Tony's lips. 

"Think I might be dying," He murmured calmly, and Steve shook his head, hands still trembling against Tony's wound. 

"No, you're not dying," Steve said stubbornly, “You’re complaining, so you’re fine.”

 

Tony clenched his eyes shut again, gritting his teeth as he clutched at Steve's bare shoulder. Steve let him do whatever he needed, but still quietly urged him to lay still. Tony tried to sit up, using Steve's shoulder as leverage, but all he managed to do was pull the captain down. He kept his eyes closed, letting out a pained breath, as Steve knelt beside him and silently prayed that this was just a new take on an old nightmare, and he'd wake up any moment now.  

 

"What's going on over there?" Clint spoke over the communications, and Tony managed to roll his eyes, despite circumstances. 

"Don't let him touch my stuff," Tony said weakly, his face visibly paling.

"We need a doctor, Tony's in a bad-" Steve couldn't finish it, but Clint seemed to understand the severity regardless. 

"You're going to be fine," Steve reassured, and Tony gave a lazy smile.

"You telling me that - or is it for your own sake?"

Steve shook his head. He didn't know. He didn't know much at that moment, other than the fact that Tony's blood seemed to be everywhere, his skin pale, his eyes drifting shut and springing open intermittently. 

 

Tony was fighting for consciousness, and Steve's fingers were trembling, and there was blood everywhere. 

 

Tony reassuringly rubbed Steve's shoulder, coming to rest on his forearm and giving it a squeeze, forcing Steve to bring his gaze to meet Tony's.  

"So, you should know," Tony began, his eyes drifting shut momentarily again, his voice slurred, "I mean, you do know - I was kind of a dick? I just, sort of... I don't do the whole 'people' thing... very well..."

Steve squeezed Tony's hand as it rested on his forearm, a new spark of hope flooding through him as he heard a plane engine approaching. He urged Tony to be quiet, to conserve energy, but the billionaire stubbornly pressed on, slowly opening eyes to groggily hold Steve's gaze.

 

"'msorry about the... the stuff I said... the bottle stuff. Bottle or not, you're a pretty great..." Tony slurred, his grip getting weaker, even as Steve gripped tighter onto Tony's hand, "It's been an honour, Captain."

Steve said nothing, Tony still offering a lopsided smile as his eyelids slid closed and didn't re-open. Steve felt his breath catch. He'd be damned if Tony was going to just up and die on him like that. He couldn't. Steve shook his shoulder, one hand still pressed firmly against Tony's wound.

"Tony?" He urged, voice firm, but wavering slightly with desperation. His days of losing men were over, he'd thought. They were indestructible. They were the Avengers, for Christ's sake, and Tony was- Tony was meant to be the invincible Iron Man. As far as Steve knew, they hadn't changed the meaning of 'invincible' during his time in the ice. 

 

"Don't you die on me, Stark!" Steve barked, shaking Tony's shoulder once again, as Thor slowly approached, his expression filled with pain as the demigod remained silent. Steve watched for a sign of life, the arc reactor flickering slightly, but Tony was motionless. There seemed to be no breaths coming from his parted lips, no rise and fall of his chest. Steve tore off his gloves with his teeth and reached a trembling hand to Tony's throat, his other hand never leaving the wound. His fingers were trembling so hard, he wasn't sure if he was feeling anything, or it was just the effects of his shaking. 

 

They'd  _ won. _ Soldiers weren't meant to fall after the battle had been  _ won _ . 

 

Steve pulled his fingers from Tony's throat and leaned down to listen for breath, but with the sound of approaching SHIELD agents, he couldn't pick up a thing. His throat felt tight, his chest felt tight, and his lungs were burning for air. He took Tony's hand in his own and let out a shaking gasp for air. Steve had only just started to understand Tony, and now he was losing him. 

 

A groggy Bruce came running over to them then, falling beside Tony, his own hands trembling, as Steve still clutched to Tony's. Bruce placed his forefinger and middle finger over Tony’s carotid artery feeling for a pulse, before Steve visibly saw the tension on the doctor's face wash away.  

"He's alive, but it's weak," He urged Steve to move from Tony's side, and for a good few moments, Steve didn't think he could. However, he stepped away, Tony's blood on his fingers, on his chest, on his pants, in his hair. 

 

SHIELD medical staff rushed by, everything a blur, as Steve could hear his heart pounding in his ears, not able to look back, not able to face what may be a lifeless form. He walked forward on auto-pilot, passing Thor as the god looked on in hurt and undeniable worry, despite medical staff working on his own wounds. He passed Clint as the sharp shooter paused briefly to clap a hand on his shoulder, but Steve didn't really feel it. He moved until he got to where Natasha sat, weakly trying to swat the SHIELD medics away from her, insisting she needed to thank him, 'just in case'. It was all white noise, and when a medic came to his side, saying something or other about needing to treat severe burns, immediate concern on the woman's face, he felt himself give way to unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

When Steve had woken, he'd been back at SHIELD's medical facilities, his skin bandaged tightly, where they had explained that the acidic properties of the beast's saliva had cause the equivalent of second degree burns over most of his chest. However, he was expected to make a full and speedy recovery. Steve half listened through their explanation, before raising his more immediate concerns. 

 

They'd taken him to Tony, and Steve had sat beside the man, blue eyes raking over too pale skin. He didn't know how long he'd sat there, the other Avengers filtering in and out, Steve only paying real attention when Nick Fury made his presence known. The director had explained that SHIELD had investigated the remains of the mining system, collecting all of the remaining equipment and intelligence that Acidity had left intact. He would let Steve know more as it developed. He wished Tony well. He suggested Steve rest. Steve gave polite, automatic responses to each request and every reassurance, until Fury left the captain to his own thoughts once again. 

Tony had stayed by his side as he'd healed once, and Steve would do the same. He'd stay, he'd listen to the doctors tell him that there were complications, that Tony may not come out of it, and that if he did, there was no guaranteeing he'd be the man that Steve remembered, all the while fighting what emotional responses his body was creating. 

 

He made to take Tony's hand on a few occasions, hoping that if somehow Tony knew Steve was there, he'd feel a little more at ease. Each time, Steve held back, opting instead to wring his fingers or run a hand through his hair. He didn't have a clue what he should be doing, and so, started having illogical thoughts that if only Tony were there, he'd be able to give Steve the answers. But Tony was there; the answers just never came. 

 

Steve was starting to think that maybe he needed Tony more than even he realised.

 

* * *

 

The first time Tony woke, he was incomprehensible. He was hopped up on painkillers, and he was barely intelligible, but Steve had been there, and Tony had muttered incoherently. The only words that had made sense among it all was 'Thanks, Steve', and that was all Steve had needed to hear.   
  


Bruce had argued to have Tony moved to the tower as he recovered, once the billionaire was in a more stable condition, and Fury had allowed it. Steve had overheard Bruce arguing his case when he did, and his name had cropped up. 

"He's barely left the hospital since Stark has been there. It's as bad for Steve as it is for Stark. If Tony were at the tower, he'd be under my medical care, supervised by Jarvis, and Rogers could maybe get a decent night sleep."

It had won Bruce the final straw in the argument, but he'd been wrong. Steve slept in his own bed, yes. But it was infrequent and it was far from decent. 

 

He went day to day, managing to build up enough of a facade that the rest of the team seemed to accept that he wasn't being constantly plagued by worry. He spent as much time as he could with them as well, watching movies, eating meals, playing video games, all the while thinking of his friend in the other room. He'd almost lost Tony again, without ever properly thanking him, or apologising, or even just generally reassuring Tony that it didn't matter what anyone else said, Steve thought of him as a hero. 

 

More importantly, Steve thought of him as a friend.

 

* * *

 

The second time Tony woke, he'd been a little more coherent, even managing to ask for food and water. Steve hadn't been there, and he didn't think he'd ever forgive himself for it.

 

* * *

  
"You should sleep more. It'll start taking its toll on you," Bruce said softly, changing the IV drip at Tony's side. Steve looked up drowsily from the book he'd been half-heartedly attempting to read, before stifling a yawn. 

"I don't really have anything else to do during the day," Steve confessed, "Besides, he waited with me."

Bruce gave a small, sad smile, before placing his hand on Steve's shoulder and squeezing it. The gesture was so familiar, so Tony, that Steve had to swallow a wave of nausea down.  

"He's well looked after. He's stable. I guarantee you that he'll appreciate it more if you're actually coherent when he wakes up, as opposed to this zombified state you've gotten yourself into," Bruce said this a little more firmly than usual, and Steve realised this was because Bruce was emphasising the fact that he was right and needed to be listened to. 

 

Steve gave a reluctant nod and stretched, running his hand through his hair as Bruce gave a small, soft smile, his gaze turning away from Steve's. 

"Are you going to tell him?" 

"Tell him what?" Steve queried, as Bruce shook his head, his smile still lingering. 

"Who am I kidding? You haven't even told yourself yet." 

 

Steve pretended he had no idea what Bruce was talking about, but a nagging, sickening part of him had an idea, and when he crawled into bed under Bruce's orders, it was all he could think about.

 

* * *

  
  


"You look like shit."

Steve was jolted from his dozing by those four croaky words, and his eyes snapped open to meet Tony's, as the billionaire offered a half smile.

"Tony?"

"As far as I'm aware, yes."

Steve watched him for a moment. Tony's eyes were alert. His skin was a little less pale. His cheeks were a little less drawn. 

 

"You're gonna catch flies, Spangles," Tony said dryly, as Steve realised his mouth was hanging open slightly. 

"I... sorry. How are you feeling?" Steve asked, snapping back to reality. 

Tony stretched slightly, fighting off a grimace as he did so, before resting his arms behind his head.

"Considering I was a shish kebab, not too awful," He shrugged slightly, "But I have definitely been better."

"Understandably," Steve smiled softly, and Tony returned the favour. There was silence for a few moments, aside from Tony letting out an obnoxiously loud yawn, and Steve attempted to compose his thoughts. He was nearly overcome with relief to see Tony being so... Tony.

"I hear you've waited with me," Tony remarked casually, and Steve nodded, before another silence stretched on for a few moments. 

"Thanks," Tony said finally, and Steve met his gaze once again. 

"It was nothing. Was just the right thing to do."

 

Tony looked like he wanted to argue against that, but decided to let it slide. Steve was silently grateful. He didn't want to explain his reasoning to Tony. At least, not now. Not when he wasn't even sure of his reasoning himself. 

"You should get some sleep," Tony said, and Steve made to argue, before Tony raised a brow, "I let one argument slide, this one can be your turn."

Steve shook his head with a sigh, before standing, a small smile on his lips.

"Get some rest, Tony."

"Night Steve," Tony slurred groggily, before a large yawn echoed through the room.

Steve walked towards the door and pushed it open, before Tony's parting words caught his ears. 

"Thanks again."

He nodded, not looking back, before he headed to his room, exhaustion finally taking over, and relief finally allowing him to sleep. 

 

Tony was going to be okay.

  
  
  
  



End file.
